Step Back
by glittergoddess13
Summary: Sam breaks Dean's deal, but it takes the heart from Dean & the humanity from Sam to do it. The pact separates the boys forever, unless Bobby & Dean can find a loophole in Sam's demonic deal. ALL POWERFUL DEMONIC SAM! Torture! Violence! HurtDean! LimpDean!
1. Deal

_**Author's note: What happens when you can't decide how to end Dean's deal? You write 2 versions of it. This is version Two and the other version is already up. Step Forward is what happens when Dean takes his fate into his own hands and Step Back (this story) will be what happens when Sam takes Dean's fate in his hands. 2 different stories on how Dean's deal will end. Each will be independent of each other so you can read both or either **__**and still follow. Enjoy.**_

_**.**_

**STEP BACK**

.

For one time in his life, Dean lounged in a four star bed. Secretly, he wondered if Sam would even glance at him if he wallowed in the sheets like a happy hog, but thought better of it. Still, the thought did make him chuckle a bit. _Ah hell, a bit of indulgence never hurt anyone,_ he thought as he guzzled another glass of champagne and shifted cockily in the king sized bed.

However Sam swung this, it had to be the best con ever. When he asked, Sam simply shrugged saying it was cause for celebration. He could still hear the words. "Hey, I found a way out of your deal" followed by the most complex sounding thing that Dean had ever heard. Mainly, it seemed like a lot of blather to him, but Sam swore he could bind Dean's soul to a jar of clay.

"Are you sure about this mud jar bullshit? You seemed fairly certain." Deep down, he doubted this was a plausible scheme, but if it gave Sam hope. Strangely, Dean found it gave him hope too. Maybe Sam could bind him to this word. Dean would prefer that blonde at the gas station to bind to, but that was a whole other story.

"COME ON, it's me… if I am sure this is a deal breaker, it's a deal breaker!" Sam announced, "And I found this place for us to do this ritual."

"Can we do the Ritz after this thing takes hold? Never been to the Ritz."

Sam chuckled, "No... Sorry. No more high life for us. It's back to the dregs and collapsing stink holes for us."

"Ah...home... How I don't miss the sewers and rat dens."

"Funny...ha ha ha." Sam said in a deadpan fashion.

"I'm a like Disney World with a much better ride."

"I'll pretend you didn't say that so I won't have to slit my wrists. Ugh...just... uh... I'm not even going to touch that... so wrong on so many levels. A new world record low for Dean Winchester."

"Still the champ!" Dean beamed. "Damn, I feel great. We are going to keep me from hell, take out some more demons, and take…"

"Yeah, why don't I believe that you aren't scared? We have a few hours, so stop worrying. The over the top humor doesn't fool me at all. "

With all the luxury around them, it was still just two brothers waiting. Only the hands of time and the hope of a man destined for hell kept them going. Sam hadn't let him lift a finger all day, sending him up to the room as if he were a child and couldn't carry his share of what- the hell-ever Sam had in mind. "Humor me." Sam had said. That was an hour ago and it looked like Sam was getting ready to fight a war from this location.

"Did you pack enough?"

"NO... I wasn't sure what we would need."

"Dude, there is nothing left in the car!" Dean was being snarky, but it was the truth. Every possession the boys had were now in this high priced room. Dean flopped back on the mattress, relishing the lack of lumps. "You know how to pick 'em Sammy. You take me to the nicest places."

"Jean Luc Picard is very giving. You can thank him later."

"I'd rather not… What company issues credit cards for Kirk and Picard! They are making this to easy."

Sam smiled in a weird way like he was about to drop a bomb.

"That look is creeping me out... what's wrong?"

"Sorry… just thinking..." That was the truth. He was thinking of how many times the damn trickster made him watch Dean die again and again and how those images haunted him. The damn demon might as well have taken Sam's soul that day. "Nothing... I just... I just want to say... thanks...I owe..."

"Same here...if this doesn't work... I ..." Dean breathed deeply and the breath was so emotionally charged a blind man could have read it from a state away. "I made my choice and no matter how much it pains me... no matter how much I want to fight on... it was worth it."

"It wasn't!"

"Sam..." He cracked harder and his eyes felt glassy, but Dean refused to cry. He didn't know how to say goodbye now, when he never wanted to say it at all.

"Just promise me you won't get caught in by demons hands or deals again. I can only fix this once."

"What if she is smokin' hot?"

"Not even then." Sam said sorrowfully. "No matter what...I want you to know what I do today is meant to...show you..."

"Yeah... me too." Dean smiled.

"Okay, you ready."

"Not getting any younger."

"Close your eyes."

"Come on! This is ridiculous...what does it matter..."

"Are you the one that researched this? So, shut up and close them!" When Dean sat upright on the bed and complied, Sam made a horrible face like he couldn't follow through this part without regret.

"I can't...damn..." Sam miffed at himself. Thoughts rammed in his head, he had to do this, not matter how scared he was. Now, it was just getting the results in the easiest way.

"What now?! Did you eat some mushrooms or something growing from the walls...? Or are you having a bipolar panic disorder moment."

"No! Just..."

"Lick a frog!"

"Just stand up... face the wall and close your eyes."

"Freakin' make up your mind. Are we doing the hokey pokey or the chicken dance next? Can you hurry this thing up... kinda got a time table."

"I know...but you have to face the setting sun on the descend..."

"Okay, enough... Dude, this had better be some good mojo or else." Dean stood and followed Sam's directive. "Is that better!?"

Sam lowered his voice in a melancholy tone. "Dean, I'm sorry..."

"For what now?

Without a word, Sam wrapped a cloth around Dean's mouth and nose as his older brother struggled. The distinct odor of Chloroform filled Dean's nostrils and he was forced to breathe it in. He wanted to scream and kick, but the effort was becoming too laborious. Slowly, Dean's 

fight and movements ceased. Sam let Dean drop to rest on bed. Dean toppled forward, landing half on and half off the mattress.

"Sorry, I couldn't let you see this coming... You would fight too much. If this doesn't work... I..." he told the unconscious Dean. "Just have a good life for me...One you deserve." With that Sam scooted Dean to comfortable position and placed a pillow under Dean's head for comfort.

Sam stood, looking down one last time and smiled appreciatively, Sam was trying to say goodbye, but he was also trying to apologize for the thought rolling in his head. He knew when the idea formed. Just a week after the dad on the phone fiasco, Sam had a vision- the special children kind. It was then he knew this was it, the best choice he had.

.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-xx

.

**The crossroads**

**One hour to Dean's deadline….**

"SHOW YOURSELF! I want to speak with the demon that holds Dean's contract! NOW!"

Suddenly, a small child appeared before him. "Hello, Samuel."

"Taking over children now. All time low."

"You summoned me. It's impolite to keep me waiting. I could kill you now, be done with any plans you have."

"You could, but you would have to admit you're afraid of me... afraid of Dean."

"I fear nothing," the child said. "I am mother to all..."

"Lilith... I should have guessed you were playing all sides of the game. Hold the contract, kill us... it all works. Whatever you think I am, can be... I'll do you better. I want Dean's contract gone

"And your demands mean what to me?"

"In return you get me. Not a soul…me… you have to admit, my death is a prize. My submission as your left hand is much sweeter. Let Dean live…"

"You would not hunt us? Even if Dean is in danger. You can't change your spots, dear boy."

"But, you can...you know the demon blood still beats within me. I feel it, too. I have been holding it back all this time, but you can't predict who I will align with and Dean is your insurance. You have him in an army and I will fight to protect him regardless. But, you're wrong. I won't let him fall to darkness. I would sooner give him to nothingness than to let him burn and warp in hell. He would expect nothing less of me."

"Grandstanding and bluffs."

"No, no bluff. But, I do have a preference. You give Dean what he needs... his life... a good life...no pain...family...a home and I'll let my humanity go. I'll join you!"


	2. Forgotten

"And Dean will simply go along with this plan?" She asked sardonically. "You both must die."

"We are that big of a threat? You could wipe us out, but then you have a martyr on your hands. A poster boy image of me for all the little demons that wanted to follow damn yellow eye's plan. Fuel to feed a demonic army. But you don't care about that. You still need Yellow to tell you what to do? Did he overrule you…? Must have sucked being the mother of demons, defying even God himself to be placed under another's rule."

"Is it wise for you to incite my wrath? Do not…"

"Why not. You can only kill me once. Only kill Dean once, but think of the prestige. You turned me- a feat the former general couldn't do. You can't lead an army on earth if all you do is fight amongst yourself. All those ready to follow me will topple when they see I serve you." Sam enticed, giving his best sales pitch. "All you have to do is give him a happy life." Sam wondered for a while, what in the universe allowed demons to make deals? He meant there had to be someone monitoring and forcing the rules of the bargain. Otherwise, why would you follow it?

"You would not stop. He would not stop. He would fight you even if you gave in. He would not give up."

"Make him forget me. Make him forget all the bad in his life. Can you do that? I want him happy…no more pain. EVER…just a normal uneventful life for him without any demon interference. I'll uphold my end and you uphold yours. Dean can never be harmed by demon hands, he has to be protected. Other than that, you have your solider in me. You release his contract and give him all the things he should have had and I'll join your army. But, you renege on your end and fail to keep him safe from evil or try to manipulate the situation and you lose it all... He can never be touched by anyone in your command or whatever faction you are fighting...Come on, better a solider you groomed since a baby, the prestige alone... You turned me when old yellow Eyes couldn't scratch the surface.

Lilith smiled, thinking of the factions that would join her power play by having the chosen leader of hell's army as her general. "Deal... but not so fast. You will lose all connections to Dean. In one instant you will submit and lose that which you now bargain for. You will not know him from a stranger from this day forward. I can't risk you seeking his help. It's an all or nothing deal. You're humanity for his soul and safety."

"Agreed, but I want to see him first. Make sure he is what you promise. Then, I'm yours."

**-x-x-x-x-xx-x-xx-x-x**

**Motel room...**

"DEAN!" A sweet voice called.

He shot upright from a soft, safe bed. "What?" He yelled, glancing around the room. "Huh? Dean's head felt foggy.

A beautiful woman with deep raven black hair and crystal blue eyes leaded forward, planting a deep kiss. For a moment Dean fought, but when her hands laced in his short hair, he figured what the hell. A spark of amber energy sparked to life on her finger tips, hissing up her nails. The elongated talons sunk inside the sides of Dean's temple, making him melt and stop moving. When it seemed his mind was sufficiently fog, she stopped.

"What's going on... where's Sam and I..."

She drove her nails in again, sending electrical impulses to his brain. "There is no Sam...Only you... remember... Remember?" She released more and Dean felt a bit squishy.

From the doorway Sam and Lilith watched the interaction. "Stop! You're hurting him. What is she doing to him?"

"Making him forget. Lucretia has a way of making men bend to her will."

"WHAT is she!"

"She is Lilin."

"A Succubae..."

"Not in the sense that mortals understand. You place labels on that which you don't understand- just to put a name to that which you fear. He will not be harmed, but it is necessary to manipulate and control him. She will fog his mind and keep his emotions in check. Humans connect to emotions so deeply it was the only way to keep him from his former life. She will ensure his compliance in your deal."

"He better be okay."

"She has devoted herself to developing the ability to shape men's minds from beliefs that they hold dear into the polar opposite of what they held before. She is the corruptor of the servants of Heaven, removing aspects of a person's loyalty or giving him an aspect that is desirable."

"SAM!" Dean cried out in the fog, his hands searching for anything to keep his mind clear. It was useless. His mind felt disconnected, like a paged blocked by tons of white out. Then the sweet voice called again.

Lucretia smiled, "Are you going to sleep all day, or get up and get crackin'?

""Huh? Dean's head felt foggy.

"EARTH TO DEAN! Lucy calling Dean. JOB... seeking.. It's time... we can play later."

"Lucy?"

"You're girlfriend? You remember... the one that rocks your world all the time. Are you still drunk?" DEAN!" Lucretia yelled again. "Or are you plotting for some sympathy sex... you know I would, but you promised me you would apply for that job today. I know the plant closing was hard, but today is another day."

"Job? No… Sam…"

She kissed him again. "There is no Sam...Only me and you... remember?" She released more toxin into him.

"yeah… I…"

"We met when your Mom died of breast cancer. At the race... you showed up... all alone... and you looked at me with those sad eyes."

"Huh?"

"And I felt so sorry for you and I wanted to meet you… be with you."

"Yeah...and you decided you wanted to be with me?"

"I wanted part of you...one of your favorite parts, but I like the rest of you too now."

"Funny." Dean started to fall into his induced history, being fed more and more lies while the electric impulses in his brain were interrupted.

She kissed him again, blurring the memories of his mind, planting new ideas. "I think we need to spend today in bed... work tomorrow..." After so much shock to his mind, Dean blacked out, trying desperately to hold onto a memory of something important and praying he would.

"It's done." Lucretia remarked. "He will be under my influence until he no longer fights for his former life. Then he will be free to be on his own."

"Satisfied?" Lilith asked cockily.

"Never will be satisfied, but as long as he is..."

"Why you wanted to watch something you will never hold in your heart makes little sense. Do you think he will know what you did after all this has taken hold? You should be thankful to lose your humanity it makes you weak."

"Humph… one day humanity will be your undoing. I could only hope it was by my hands or Dean's, but one day someone will stand up to you and win."


	3. Reminder

**Author's note: A faster chapter…hope you enjoy. And for some reason after I wrote this I want to hug Dean more than normal. Poor man.**

**x-xx-x-x-x-x-xx-**

"You're price has been paid. Now your services are required." Lilith reminded.

"I want a moment…alone…."

"To leave a reminder. That won't happen. Do you think I am unwise? "

"No. To take reminders. Things that connect him to his true self." Sam picked up Dean's brown leather jacket then removed Dean's necklace, evidence of a hurt filled past. But it was more. For this one moment, Sam could still be Dean's brother and hold onto a part of him forever. He may forget the meaning behind the tokens, yet for now it meant the world to him. All Sam had to hold onto now was trinkets- a jacket and necklace. So, he clutched them to him, letting the emotions stab him like a knife wound.

He grabbed the Impala keys, not ready to face the car again, only knowing in a few seconds he will forget the connection and go full on darkside as his father once feared. In a moment he won't be human anymore and the demon blood within will take over. "I'm ready." He said to his master, who stared back at him thru the innocent eyes of a child.

He started to walk away and it took everything in him to put one foot in front of the other. He counted each step as one more step further from his family. If he just walked forever, he won't have to face that his Dean was never walk beside him again- that Dean was never going to laugh with him again- that Dean and he will never argue over music again. There were so many never agains rolling in his mind. Each one just a painful as they were happy memories.

When he reached the door, Sam cannot open it. He doesn't want to close the door on his life, but he knew he must. Sam knew what will face him when he opens that door- a life without his brother. Life without messy food, clothes piles, and the occasional snoring. Life without humor, banter, practical jokes. Life without heavy metal, snark, and road trips. Moreover, life without any meaning. He would give anything to pick up after his brother one last time. With the heaviest of hearts, he turned the knob on his new life- an eternal one of being little more than the walking dead.

.

* * *

**-x-xx-x-xx-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-**

**.**

_**Two months later at the St. Augustine's Catholic school….**_

"Dean! Hey, did you get that mess on the south hall?" Ernie asked. The grey haired man smiled as he pushed a broom down the hallway. His moves were slow and it was painfully obvious that 

he couldn't function like he used to. Part of him hated passing on the bending jobs to the youngster before him, but arthritis told him "hell no" on most days and most jobs.

"Yeah, that kid blew chunks everywhere. Man, I love my job." Dean said with a smile beaming, rolling his eyes to say he would rather lick the bottom of a toilet, than to clean vomit again.

"I hear ya. Just another day in the life. Sorry to hear about Luc and you." Erin smiled, grateful his 'partner in grime', as he liked to say often, had taken care of him. Feeling it was time to return the favor, he felt he needed to quell the salt in some emotional wounds.

"Nah, just as well. She was a bit odd at times. Most of the times I was around her is a blur. Kinda glad she moved on. "

"Thanks, kid. You take good care of an old man."

"No worries, Ern. Just… just feels like the right thing to do."

Well, I'll be off in a few to see the wife. You want to come to dinner. She can poison us both."

Chuckling, Dean smiled. "I think I'll pass. I have other forms of poison in mind."

"Yeah, well, don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Then I would never have any fun."

"Won't be here tomorrow. Got to get that engine checked again. Damn thing is leaking again."

"Did you check the head gasket? If your mechanic crimped the seal, it would leave you a slow ass leak…"

"When in the hell did you learn about cars? You could have told me."

"I… I don't… Don't really know where that came from…. Never messed with cars… it just came out…" Dean smiled, but his eyes looked distant.

"Hey, dude, you okay?"

He shook his head. "Yeah, yeah…just tired."

"Still not sleeping well?"

"Comes and goes. Lucy used to rub my temple to make my head stop spinning, but it seems to be worse now."

"Not those nightmares still?"

"Sometimes…. It's like I am missing something and my brain won't shut up."

"Too bad that affliction hasn't passed on to your mouth."

Suddenly, an image passed in Dean's mind. A face without a name, but so familiar to him. A mop of brown hair- a face, smiling at him warmly. Just as quickly it was gone. "I would comment, but I reserve respect for a condemned man. Hope your wife makes pot roast tonight."

"Man that is just mean. Sure you won't come over. It's not good to hang in that trailer by yourself. "

"It's all good when they film an episode of cops though!'

"Alright, funny man. Have it your way. I'll tell Rita to fix you a brown bag lunch and drop it off tomorrow. See if you are laughing then."

"Nice…just when I thought you like me."

"See ya, kid. Take 'er easy."

.

* * *

**x-xx-x-x-xx-x-x-xx-x-x-**

.

A barrage of loud country music and smoke filled air hit him in the face when he walked into the bar. He made himself comfortable on a bar stool near the door, like he needed to watch the exit for some reason. He always did this, but he wasn't sure who or what he was waiting for. All he knew was that he felt damn empty and found a way to fill that place with beer and shots.

He supposed he could have gone with Ernie, but he didn't feel up to any chit chat tonight unless the bottom of a shot glass or beer bottle decided to speak to him.

"What'll it be, Dean?" Erica asked. The twenty something barmaid made it obvious she was interested in something physical. He looked up and she was more than anyone's type and they had a few romps as of late, but not tonight.

"Hey, sweetie. Not really in a great mood, but catch ya on a different night?" He said giving her a polite smile.

"Sure…. What else you got on your menu?"

A bucket of beer, some tequila, whiskey. You keep pouring whatever you got. Line 'em up and keep 'em coming"

Her smile faltered but she brought him his poison anyway. Dean took a long pull on a beer, and then downed a shot, repeating the action again and again. He winced when the hard stuff burnt his throat but continued knowing that it wouldn't be long to get the numbness that he so desperately wanted. By the time he had downed another shot and chugged another beer, he toasted the loneliness within him. He rolled the small shot glass from hand to hand, memorized by how perfectly it was made, unlike him.

"You look a little sad there. Want to talk about it?" Erica's sweet voice drifted in his ritual.

"Fine… just a bad day at work." Inwardly, he thought that even a woman he only had a few nights with could tell he wasn't okay, yet he was blind to what the hell was eating at him relentlessly "I'm okay, thanks." He cleared his throat, hoping she would just leave him alone.

He gave her a smile, and then started drinking again, alternating beer and liquor like a man set on automatic. He filled his empty stomach with the happiness of liquid, thankful that soon he would be able to sleep and maybe forget the images that plagued him. A sudden haze stole his mind like a flash. There is was- bottled happiness, but it wasn't enough. He finished this beer and the shot line and motioned for some more.

"We're closing in a few. Is there someone I can call to come and get you? I don't think you should be driving right now. I could take you." Erica offered as she cleared his empty bottles and shot glasses.

He had the sudden urge to sleep even though he hadn't been getting much lately. The soft thumping from the music behind him was relaxing him into pure blissfulness. "Just another round," he slurred out the words.

"Okay one more"

Dean looked up, drunk and happy. He noticed now the bar was empty except for him, Erica and some bouncer.

"Drink up then I'm taking you home." It wasn't a question, but she eyed him carefully to see if he would protest.

"Is there a problem here?" a deep voice sounded from behind him. Dean turned to see the bouncer looming over him. This was all he needed, but if Hulk Hogan here could knock him into sleep it might be worth starting something

Before he got a chance to consider it, Erica had responded. "It's fine, Randy. He's a friend and having a bad night. Leave it be." She grabbed her coat and gave him a look. "Help me get him to my car." Dean felt a vice grip on his arm then it was slung over Giagantor's shoulder. He was dragged from the bar, out the steps, and thru the parking lot.

Randy placed him next to Erica's car, but Dean went down in a heap like heavy bricks on the cold hard concrete of the parking lot. "Son of a bitch!" he muttered as he rubbed his eyes, which swam with sparkling star dots. He looked up to see his truck fifteen feet in front of him. "This isn't right. It's not my life. Something isn't right."

"Tell me about it, bub. Life sucks for us all." Randy smarted.

Dean moved his hands underneath him and pushed himself up and onto his unsteady feet. He stumbled clumsily, tripping over his own feet. Randy yanked him up a bit when the passenger door was open. Dean collapsed across the front seat and passed out, but his mind didn't stop.

* * *

_ His car door was opened and as they came around to the driver's side he could see his feet hanging out the car door. A man cursed loudly at him, but there was concern in the voice. "Sam, help get him in the car." _

"_Dad. Is he okay? He left so fast."_

"_He'll be fine, but we'll have to give him quiet tomorrow. One hell of a hangover coming, but I think..."_

"…_he was upset about our fighting."_

"_Yeah…think we can call a truce for a bit, Sammy." The man stopped. "I mean Sam." _

_ There as a sense of hesitation on the younger man's part. "Only for my brother." He jumped in the passenger's side. "Dad? He looks."_

"_I got him… He rolled Dean to the side and held his head as Dean emptied his stomach of copious amounts of alcohol. When the heaves eased up, the older man rubbed small circles of comfort to his back. "That one hurt didn't it, kiddo? You okay?" His energy spent, Dean leaned on the man, who pulled him up with ease, keeping the small circles moving to ease some of the pain. "Easy, son... you're okay. Time for rest."_

"_Dad, I don't feel so good."_

"_I know. But, you'll be okay." His father's arms wrapped around him shifting him further in the car, while Sam pulled too._

_ When Dean was extended fully in the seat, Sam pulled him close. "Dean? I'm sorry… I didn't mean to…" He looked up with unfocused hazy eyes that began to flutter. He went completely limp against Sam, who held him tighter as he tried to drift to sleep. Sam wrapped an arm around Dean's stomach and pulled him to rest on his arm. _

"_We'll take care of him. He'll forgive us. He always does." The man said._

* * *

Dean awoke when the engine cut.

"Sorry, I was just going to let you sleep it off for a bit. Want me to help you in?" Erica offered.

Dean noticed now she had driven him all the way home to the Lawnview trailer park. "Don't think I have it in me. Thanks though, love. I owe you a good time later." He crawled out the door and up the rickety wood steps of a trailer. At least his excuse sounded better than "I keep having dreams of people I don't know and its making me crazy."


	4. Messenger

* * *

**-x-xx-x-x-x-x-x-xx-x-**

"We have a problem," Lucretia said.

"You should be watching your charge. Dare to defy me…" Lilith warned.

"I would never…but someone is interfering. SOMEONE pushing the right buttons. Dean keeps reaching for a spark of who is really is. There are other hands at work."

"Find out who and kill them. We are so close to having the power we need."

"You're new general is more than we ever dreamed."

"And you best make sure he stays that way."

Lucretia bowed slightly.

"Better yet. Kill anyone that crossed Dean's path since your influence. Why take chances. Accidents happen…burn that school… kill them all….. Keep the brother safe and ignorant."

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

* * *

**In a remote cabin in the Appalachian Mountains….**

"Personally, I think watching the terror….. The sheer panic, build in your victim's face is essential to enjoying inflicting pain."

"Sam! You have to stop this!" Ruby screamed. She arched upwards with her abdomen, but her arm and legs strapped to a table.

"Watching their faces as the knowledge that this isn't a sick, sick joke…And it won't just stop…that I won't ever stop until I say you can go, and that could be forever." Sam ran Ruby's own knife over her bruised cheek.

Her eyes flicked from Sam's face to the weapon. The same chocolate hair that is as brown as mud after it rained made Sam's face as soft as ever, but his eyes were hard and silver- frozen cold. Those once warm portals were defiant, daring Ruby to not act afraid.

"Scared little girl? I know the signs." She may not have been trembling, but the very fact that she didn't answer him meant there was something she wanted to hide "Do you want to scream for me again? I like it when you scream!"

"SAM! Think… Dean is out there… he needs you…"

"Don't worry; I'll get anyone on your side. But, it's nice for you to name names. I Want THE NAME…."

"Dean- your brother, you jackoff. The one whose necklace you wear. And the beat up crap jacket….they're his! THINK!"

"This is mine!"

"Touchy touchy. Why so connected to leather jacket and a piece of gold painted tin? Has to mean something... Think!"

"Such courage! I always love a challenge. But you're wrong, in so many ways, you're so wrong." He pressed the curve of the blade to her lips, and she fell silent.

"I tried to help you."

"You tried to recruit me. I can see through your lies!" Sam punched her face with the knife handle. With nowhere to turn, the impact smashed her front teeth in and she spit up blood before Sam's hand started a backward swing.

"Name the demon you follow!"

"What did I do to you?" she with slightly disoriented tone

Demons are infinitely stronger than humans, plain and simple, but after the hours of relentless torment, she had broken down. He watched emotions and urges flicker across her face. "Tell me and you won't be sorry. The pain will end." He lied, he like the part that made his victims beg until they promised him anything just to get him to stop. "You were always different. I felt it," he said lightly like spring coming on a breeze as he licked a long line down her cheek.

She shivered, and it wasn't just with fear. It was repulsion. The first words that would come to mind when looking at Sam now would be otherworldly and unnerving as Hell. His eyes were probably the most noticeable feature about him, large, silver eyes with a black slit for a pupil that seemed to glow when he was satisfied with his efforts.

"You have to remember Dean…the necklace…He's"

Sam grabbed the trinket, holding it in his thumbs. "Your manipulations are meaningless now. Making…"

"THEN TAKE IT OFF!" She spat out a tooth with a large amount of blood. "Take it off."

"It's mine!"

"Don't you get sick of death? Don't you feel it? " She lowered her voice to a half-whisper. "Even when you dream you can't escape it. It haunts you, just out of reach."

Twirling the blade so Ruby could see the knife- her oh so precious demon killing knife- flash before her eyes. He sliced a mark in her flesh, just enough to break the surface and relished at the sight of blood squeezing out from the host body, letting his finger wind in the fresh spill.

Instead of relaxing, she struggled wildly. "STOP!!"

"Name who you follow!"

"Go to hell!"

He grabbed her lips and bit down hard, kissing her as much as hurting her. "Does that make if feel better." He said when he finished.

"You're not Sam anymore. If you're in there… you have to fight this…"

"I'm what you wanted me to be. Just not on your side. Best laid plans of mice and demons."

She twitched, but Sam pressed the blade at her throat now. "Tell me…" He said so quietly with a voice that could have turned the earth itself to stone. All the while, his hands worked the blade in numerous passes over her flesh, slashing indiscriminately.

She opened her mouth in a soundless scream, tears streaming down her cheek. She fought, writing against her bonds even though they ripped into her wrists and ankles. "Don't!"She managed to breathe,

"I think I hit a nerve," Sam whispered loudly in her ear.

"When does this end?"

Sam smiled. "We'll that took you long enough. I was waiting for you to ask that question." He leaned in and whispered again. "Only when I say so. Even if you never tell me anything. I like this…live for it, love it and I'm oh so very good at it. "

Ruby was beyond fear at this point. Lost in a fog of extreme weariness, shecould only move between terror and pain through these solitary moments with dulled emotions and thoughts. When she wasn't screaming she simply was exhausted. Pushed beyond the brink of what she thought she could survive. With no hope of escape, her face shone disbelief, hopelessness, and a misery so deep the distance from the sun paled in comparison.

She lay there spread out on the cold, hard table. Her arms bound. Her clothes soaked in sweat and in blood - Just the body of a young woman who had been ravaged by a new kind of monster. Jagged wounds marred her body. Her clothing was ripped and stained. Her black eyes gazed up at him.

"Do you want to tell me now? Who sent you?" His hands caressed the ugly, blood covered blade.

"I'd rather die."

"Well, you are the messenger. What was that cliché…hmmm." Without warning he drove it down into her flesh and bone, and she screamed. Metal skewered through her heart and imbedded in her skin. Suddenly, Sam yanked the blade from her torso to her guts, splitting her open. "You'll be a warning for your master. Tell him what awaits him. Oh... speechless, huh? Well, I think he'll get the point."


	5. Watcher

_**Author's note: Okay, I have to have dental surgery today. How I broke my tooth is beyond me, but I am talented at getting hurt. Anyway, not that I expect sympathy, but just wanted to warn you I wrote this on pain pills. So, if there is anything confusing…Let's blame them! Or I might have been looking at a picture of Jensen, Jared, Johnny Depp, Orlando Bloom...(drifts off in too much pretty... overload!) Thanks for the reviews and support. Love ya… mean it!**_

* * *

.**  
**

The clock said 4:52 a.m. and all Dean wanted was sleep, but his skin rippled with fresh goose pimples. The world felt like he was lost in a freezer. Dean wasn't sure if he'd actually fallen asleep or not, his mind was a little fuzzy, but hell he wanted some rest tonight. "Sam, did you open the damn window?" Sam moaned something into his pillow and then he rolled over to face the opposite wall. With a frustrated grumble, Dean moved to do the same. He halted halfway, breath frozen in his throat. "Damn polar bear," he muttered grumbling about how Sam seemed to like the cold air lately.

When he opened his eyes, a set of long fangs gritted in a grotesque grin right before his eyes. Before he had a chance to scream, the boney, hair covered fingers clasped across his throat, pinning him to the mattress. He managed to struggle for a bit, before his muscles relaxed from lack of air, going limp as his eyes glazed over. Dean heard the door slam open, and his father's shadow moved into the light. Dean had lost complete control of his body. Then there was a bang and Dean shot up gasping.

When he awoke with the sound of the gun in his dream, he glanced around the room, looking to see if the people from that otherworldly realm had somehow manifested themselves.

Dean blearily woke up at some ungodly hour. For some odd reason, the three or so hours before sunrise were the worst time for the nightmares. The only time they gave him any reprieve- the only time he slept, if at all- was when he was passed out drunk. And drinking seemed to happen with more and more frequency. And lately the dreams came more frequently and more gruesome "I am going insane." His body was stiff with tension, aching in exhaustion and stress. Sweat poured down freely down his cold body, leaving him with a tremble. A wave of unpleasant cold made him shudder, and he let out a groan, throwing a blanket over his face before he collapsed back in the bed.

His eyes plastered open, refusing to go back the land of confusion in his dreams. All he knew was when he was here in the real world he fought to stay here, but in the dream plane he felt equally at home. It was like he was two different people at different times of the day. He had tried to figure a way that his dreams made sense in his life, but they never did. To be honest, he wasn't entirely sure how he ended up living in a trailer, working at the school, and drinking at the bar. That was all he knew with certainty. He knew he had a past, but when he tried to think about it, it was like he started living when he got here. Dean could barely recall the events that had led him here and tried at first to figure it out. He had stopped trying after a month. Nothing really made sense anyway.

When he could sleep, he would awaken in a cold sweat, heart pounding and chest heaving. Not that he wanted to remember what he saw in his dreams, his waking reality was enough. Worse still, the images arrived when he was awake now.

"WHAT"S HAPPENING TO ME!!" He screamed. He was exhausted, but he didn't want to go back to sleep. He didn't know what his dreams would bring. Although they were serene once in a while, the rest of the time, they were nightmares plagued with events of his life. Especially recently. He gave up on rest, and switched on the TV, just for company really. As he watched the local news reporter talk about a fire just east of Chicago, he grimaced. "The world's gone straight to hell!" He was about to turn the channel, when he noticed a figure standing in the crowd behind the report. "Sonva…"

A tall man, who stood out from all the others, appeared to be staring back at Dean. It was the same hazel eyes and brown mop hair from his dreams. The man he kept seeing night after night. The man he called Sam in his dreams was on that screen. He sucked in a breath, holding it, waiting for his body to wake up again from yet another dream, but he didn't. He just stared at the figure on the tube watching as if seeing this person would give him some answers or clues to why he felt so twisted inside. As he gazed at the image, the man's eyes flashed silver and in the next frame he was disappeared entirely.

* * *

**Later that morning…..**

Methodically checking the room around him and shutting the door with his heel, Dean's found the large puddle in the middle of the tiny classroom. At least this spill was from a water pipe break and not something else- something more grotesque. Dean pulled himself up on unsteady legs, and then looked down to the task set before him. It seemed like hours before he was finished.

Suddenly two boys pushed inside, thinking the room was empty. The McQuaid brothers, the biggest hellions in the place. Dean always sorta liked them; they were thicker than thieves and twice as determined. They were good natured enough, just a bit roughhouse for Catholic school.

"Dude, you made me look bad."

"I didn't mean to," the younger boy said. "How could I know Katie..."

"Jace, you shouldn't have told her I like her, puke face.

"Tard MUFFIN!" Kade inched closer to his older brother glaring at each other face to face.

"HEY, hey…Kade! Jace! What's this all about….stop it now!" Dean pushed the boys apart with a gently hand. "You're brothers…. You should stick together."

"But he..."

"And he…"

"Doesn't matter… who the hell is going to have your back when the 6th graders try to give you a hard time." He looked at the younger boy.

"Jace will." Kade admitted.

"And who helped you out by taking the rap for the cherry bomb in the boy's room?" He asked the other boy.

"Kade."

"Yeah... yeah... and…you are fighting because…"

"He started it…"

"Did not!"

"Did too!" Kade stuck out his tongue and laughed playfully.

"Hey…Off with you… no more fights. You're family. "

"You won't tell Sister Margret will you?" Jace asked.

"Not this time. But, you have to promise to take care of each other….it's…" His voice drifted slowly. "It's important."

The youngster didn't need a second thought, grateful to not be punished by one of the sisters. They left Dean standing alone. Dean's mind reeled, thinking something was wrong with him yet again. All of a sudden there was an ache.

"You handled that well. Have experience with kids?" Ernie asked when he entered unnoticed by Dean.

"Oh… uh… Ern… uh… No, don't have any?"

"I know that. I meant seems like you have had some history in dealing with families.…. Got some siblings then?"

"No, none of those either. Kinda…kinda feels like I should….. But…those boys…just full of it… just seems right they should take care of each other. Figured that while they were taking on the world they wouldn't be tearing each other's throats out."

"Ha… guess you were right. You would make a great big brother…" Ernie's voice faded and Dean flashed.

Dean sat huddled on the floor in the corner of the room of the apartment they were currently calling home. He supposed that his brother and father didn't even know he was hiding from the 

sounds. "Not until they expect me to pick up the pieces." He said. The sixteen-year-old boy cowered in a lonely corner while the world around him spun.

Dean cringed as Sam bought out the big guns, "Do you think this is what Mom wanted for us?"

An eerie quiet invaded the apartment and mingled with the lingering tension. The look on Sam's face, pleased with the shock and regret that he had thrown at his father. John turned his back to Sam. The fury rolling off John and there was a deadly glint in his eyes.

Dean tensed. This wasn't going to end well. He got to his feet and pushed them both apart. "STOP IT! STOP!!"

"STOP IT!" Dean screamed, breathing hard.

"HEY! Kiddo! You okay?" Ernie asked. "What are you screamin' about?"

Dean snapped back. "Uh…."

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah... just having these weird dreams…."

"Maybe I can help with those. Kinda read up on some freaky stuff in my time."

"I doubt it."

"Come on, we can try. Still dreaming about monsters?"

Rubbing his hand tiredly over his two day growth of beard he cursed again under his breath. He didn't want to bother Ernie with his problems. "It's fine. Hey, you have only been here for 3 weeks. … Don't want to scare you off already."

"I don't scare easy. The only thing I am afraid of is losing my family and lately…lately I can seem to get them back. You know what it's like to see the two boys you love as your own be lost in two different ways. One is gone all wild on me and the other is lost in himself and just can't see it. Someone warped that boy and I really want to find out who and why… until then…." Ernie looked sad and distant for second before he flashed as smile at Dean. "Kid, you know we're friends. Kinda claiming you as a son I never had. You can tell me. You've not been doing so well lately. I've noticed the stress on you. Come on... you know me….just grab hold of that."

"Not really sleeping much… this all feels wrong, but when I think about it- it makes sense- this life. But below the surface I think… I think there is something broken."

"You're a little young to have a midlife crisis."

"We'll I keep seeing these people... These guys."

"What are they doing? Anything strange…do you a fell a bond with them or something?" Ernie asked hopefully.

"No…no... and… GOD that makes me feel sick!"

"Not that kind of connection, son. Just asking if you feel deeply….."

"No, it's like I'm a character in this horror movie but I want to be there. I want to have a beer with these people and kill Freddy Krueger. It doesn't make sense! I keep dreaming about these two guys. I call the older one Dad, but I don't recall him being my father. Pretty much don't recall my father at all. Think he was gone a lot. Feels like that is why, but…..then the other one….I know his name is Sam. Don't know how I know it or why I know him…. Just seems like I should be… ""

"Repressed memory? Something happened to you recently?" Ernie suggested.

"No… nothing…"

"Past?"

"When I look… I find nothing...just a perfect past. How can I be this messed up with nothing in my past?"

"Hmm… well, kiddo…..I think you need to dig deeper. Maybe not focus on the nightmare part and think of the better part. Why do you think these people represent your family? Maybe you should not run from the dreams and let them happen."

"At this point I'll try anything. And I saw…Damn, this sounds so insane… I saw this one guy-Sam- on my TV last night…..at that Chicago fire. I think it was Sam…it looked like the man in my dreams anyway and he's…oh… this is just stupid… I… his eyes were weird…creepy….just not right… and I got in my truck and drove towards Chicago for about a half hour before work. Wasn't even aware of it…..just took off… had to turn around and speed to get here. WHY WOULD A SANE MAN DO THAT?"

Suddenly, an image of Sam was there, blaring a gun. He slung Dean over his shoulder, carrying him away from something. There was blood so much blood and it was coming from his torso. "Hold on, Dean. Don't die on me now!"

Dean flinched and screamed as Ernie touched him. The image faded as soon as Ernie invaded his space.

"Easy… Damn, the walls you have keeping you from those memories and pain are deep. Want to talk about it?"

"No, I don't… I don't want to do that again. EVER!" Dean left frazzled and full of fear.

* * *

**That afternoon…..**

Lucretia had planned her timing well. While the school gathered for an school talent show, she had barred all the doors shut. Slowly, she doused the outside of the doors with gasoline. "Just another senseless arson," she uttered with a smile. The sounds of the music and noise would give her great cover until it was all too late for the kiddies.

One quick phone call to Dean was enough to get him to meet her. Even as he said "Lucy it never worked between us. We never even…uh… you know…" She laughed. Of course it didn't work between them. She was here to watch him, not provide for his carnal urges. Still, he agreed to meet her here by doors. Just one more manipulation and she would set him up in a new town with a new life.

"Well…well…" A male voice boomed.

Lucretia turned, looking straight at Ernie. Now was not the time for some old fashioned fossil to sound the alarm on her plans. Her fingers reached out for the older man's head. When she drew closer, she found her hands twisted and pinned behind her when Ernie displayed an agility she didn't expect.

"Should have known the watcher was the closest person to Dean. Been looking for you bitch. Been waiting for you to show your demon self since I got here." Ernie sneered.

"I don't know what you mean?" She said with fake urgency.

"Don't con me. I ain't buying." With that Ernie poured a flask of holy water down the woman's head and she fell to the floor, screaming as if she was on fire.

"ERNIE!?" Dean said, alarmed at the sight before him. "Get off of her! What are you doing?"

"BACK OFF, SON! Don't get close to her. She's keeping you confused. I found the controller and I can get you back!"

Dean drew his fist and smacked Ernie in the jaw, freeing Lucretia from Ernie's punishment. "LUCY..RUN…RUN NOW!" He punched again, but Ernie countered, whirling Dean around and slamming him against a wall.

"DEAN! REMEMBER ME! We have to stop her!" Ernie screamed.


	6. Dark Rising

**_Author's note: Please don't kill me for the end of this chapter. Hopefully it comes out hot and shows how dark and powerful Sam is getting._**

* * *

.

The insides of the warehouse were a brilliant stark contrast to the outside walls that were made of some sort of gray brick. The insides were vibrant, overflowing with fabric bolts, beads, and the like needed for the mass production of fashion. Sam walked easily to the office as if he had every right to be here despite the fact he had ripped the magnetic card lock from the bolt to get in. It didn't take long for brute strength to become part of the powers available to him. The workers that sewed away on some garment or another paid him no mind. Of course, he didn't allow them to see him. He found the power to befuddle the human mind particularly enjoyable. As a pastime, he could pick anyone at random and torment them for hours. "Maybe later." He reminded himself. For now, his goal was not so human, not that he wouldn't win this battle just as easy.

The odds were always in his favor. In truth, the lack of challenge tended to bore him and he found that as his powers grew stronger, he had to invent ways to amuse himself. He took in a deep breath, raised his hand to the talisman around his neck and prepared for battle. This was going to be fun.

A raven haired beauty started to cross the warehouse, ready to leave for the day without an inkling of a clue of the danger that lurked for her. When she noticed the tall- hard to miss- demonic Sam running towards her at a very fast speed, she tried to run. Soon, the odds were overwhelming. Three lesser demons followed close behind Sam's heels. The woman bolted the opposite direction and rounded a corner in the back of the room. Sam and his followers chased after her with little effort.

Another pack of demon-possessed people blocked her path as she whipped around the turn. But the woman turned and jumped upon a sewing table. "What the hell do you want!" She didn't even feign innocence. "Sammy… How the might hypocritical innocent has fallen."

"Hello, Meg. Good to see you and I could say the same about you. Taken to hiding in a sweat shop? Very beneath you."

"Why don't you just kill me like all the others without the grandstanding."

"Oh, but that is the fun part. You taught me that it's so much better if you gloat."

"So, where's Dean? Mr. Chuckles can't be far from your side. How they turned you both…" She jumped from the table when no recognition flashed on his face. "What did you do…don't tell me you were stupid enough to save him and give…." She chuckled. "Of course you are that stupid."

"I would be careful about your words, considering the position you are in."

"You only dream about positions you would like me in. Come on, Sam. I know you still have a thing for me… We can work out an arrangement." Meg was elated beyond belief, she had spent years dreaming of this day when Sam would turn dark. "Too bad old Yellow Eyes can't see you now, but I always said he was too careful with you. He dies and a year later, boom… no more Mr. Nice Sammy."

"Join our side or die. How's that for arrangements?"

Meg stopped talking when Sam pointed towards the humans in the room and all of them stood still. One finger pointed straight at her. Sam's index finger guided the blank masses to surround Meg.

"How did you…"

"You knew I was special, but you never had a clue just how much."

""Oh my god" Said Meg as she saw Sam control their minds.

"Not quite, but soon. So have you weighed your options yet?"

"You know I would never miss a good party. Especially one that a Winchester was throwing." With that Meg aligned herself in Lilith's army.

"There's' just one thing- to join you have to have a little initiation."

Meg fingered the lapels of the brown leather jacket around Sam. "Yeah…what did you have in mind?"

"The names of the demons you answer to."

"If I give them up, are they good as dead?"

"Would you prefer you paid that price?"

"No, just hoping to watch." She stared as Sam ran his fingers over the necklace- Dean's necklace.

For a second Sam lost focus, and his fingers whirled the lumps of the figure against his chest. For whatever reason it calmed him briefly, but it also reminded him that for all his abilities something was missing. There was this emptiness inside Sam that he couldn't quite figure it out. He calmed himself, rubbing the gold around his neck, letting the darkness inside him grow. "Name them….and you will secure yourself a place. Lilith hasn't forgotten your service to her before she was forced under the rule…"

"Girls got to do what a girls got to do."

"..And you only have this offer once."

"I'm yours."

**--xxxxxxxxx--**

* * *

Ernie tossed Dean off. "She's a demon…get a hold of yourself. Kid, it's me... Bobby!"

Dean punched the man with a series combination of flawless precision moves. His body aligned to clear and definite striking blows.

Bobby went down in pain, but kept trying to get up. "Dammit, Dean...ugh..."

"God, where did I … where did those punches come from…" He moved back blankly.

"Dean, it's me... Lucy... you need to help me. You saw what he tried to do to me." When she reached out for him he smacked her hand away. He paced restlessly back and forth, senseless mutterings leaving his mouth.

Ernie- Bobby or whoever- had promised to help him, but Lucy had been there for him. His mind was so confused. He was a man and should protect Lucy, but why did he want to let Ernie have at her when he said the word demon. "I'm losing my mind... I really am!"

Lucy tried again to get close to Dean. "DON'T! Don't touch me." He moved back towards the gym door, seeing the open door out of the corner of his eye.

"We have to save Sam before it's too late. He's changing more and more." Bobby stood, keeping a safe distance from Dean and the demon keeper. "If we don't get to him soon, you won't want him to live. Listen to me, boy. He's changing and it's getting uglier and uglier."

Moving closer to the door, a plan formulated in Dean's mind. He would get to the coach's office and call 911 and let them sort this all out. Dean was unfortunately caught up in his ponderings and wild imagination when he finally took notice of the Lucy laughing. He turned around, a murderous glint staring back at him. "Luc? What's…"

Just then the demon flew him backwards with a motion. She was coming at him and he was flat on his back on the hallway floor. Distantly, a loud guitar riff sounded in the assembly hall, a perfect cover for Lucy to end this stalemate.

There was nowhere for him to hide. At that moment, Dean was sure he was witnessing the Devil's spawn and the fears in his dreams. He was sure of it.

Suddenly she was on him in a flash. He could feel a coldness emanating from the woman as her fingers drove inside his skull. As they bore inside, he did the only thing he could do and had done countless times when Lucy befuddled his mind; he screamed as hard as he could, a blood curdling scream of someone in mortal peril. He rose precious inches, fighting the pain-fighting to get her out of his head.

It almost seemed like slow motion as in one movement Bobby twisted her body away from Dean. Her fingers yanking out of his mind, he fell flatly back on the tiles. Bobby wasn't so lucky as Lucy sent him flying into a trophy case, where he smashed into the glass. His head 

cracked into the glass, sending slivers and shards of sharp rain around him. A large gash poured blood, but the man got back up for more fight.

As Dean rose up, Lucy grabbed him by the ankle and struck a vicious blow to Dean's head in the process. Stunned, Dean managed to kick out and score a direct hit on the demon's abdomen. Bobby took the opportunity to pounce.

Dean let out a moan and rolled on the floor. His head throbbed from the blow and mind manipulation. The next thing he knew the demon had tossed Bobby back against a wall. Then, Lucy was on top of Dean again. She slammed him hard on the floor and pressed down hard against him. She was reaching out again to drill into his head. Dean kicked and thrashed.

"Easy. It only hurts for a moment than you will be so happy." Dean gulped, taking as deep a breath as he could under the thing's chilling fingers. A familiar sense of terror had set into Dean, dreading his inescapability, but this time nothing was interrupting what felt like the slow consumption of his mind.

Dean's eyes widened slightly as it forebodingly raised a bony finger. Dean wasn't sure he could have screamed again. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the creature above him.

"I don't think so!" Bobby yelled as he pushed a piece of glass from the trophy case inside Lucy's heart. The demon cracked her head and then pushed Bobby backwards with a flick of her wrist.

The sound of a clogged vacuum sounded more healthy than the breathe Dean took at that moment. "What… what the hell are you...Who are you PEOPLE!?" His eyes drew down to the blood dripping off the glass in the demon's chest.

"Hush, sweetness…. It will all go away in a few seconds." She held him down by his shoulders, and briefly considered killing Dean here and now, but that would be against the rules. She moved her hands quickly to his temple, where she could squeeze the memories back behind the veil in Dean's mind. "But, I have to take care of your friend first."

Dean could do nothing to resist, he didn't remember how to fight a demon and he could not fight back against the powerful demon woman. She pulled Dean's short hair and slammed his head against the tile covered concrete of the hallway. As he slipped into unconsciousness, he was consumed with hate: hate for himself and not being able to protect his family. Where did the thoughts of family come from, he asked himself as he swam into the blackness. "My family, "he muttered. He had a family! That thought echoed in his mind as darkness took him.

"Just stay out of my way until I take care of your little friend," Lucy said.

**-x-xx-xx-x-x-xx-x-x-x-x--**

* * *

Meg shifted into Sam's dwelling, slithering with grace. Just beyond the hot steam of a shower echoed with such force it sounded like a violent rain pouring on a tin roof. She glanced at the nightstand, where a gold necklace dangled over a lamp without a shade. She pulled on the cord, removing the item, filling with satisfaction of having some secret- some power over Sam. One she would use if it came down to the wire. Lilith had made a mistake. Sam was more than her equal. Sam would be a god once he reached his full potential. And what better to use against a God, than wrath over what Lilith had stolen. It never hurt to have an ace when dealing with powers of this magnitude.

"Don't touch that!" Sam said, his head flicking. Meg's body reacted, slamming against the wall face first. "It's not nice to steal."

"Sam. You wound me. I was looking for you and wondered why you wear it."

"Nevermind. It's mine! Touch it again…"

"Can't blame a girl for wanting to get close to power." She smiled, but Sam didn't release his grip with his mind.

"Did you come to make an offer?"

"Can you read my mind?"

"Not yet… but give me time. I'll pull all the layers away and leave you…"

"Layers… sounds like fun, but I'm going to need to move…"

Sam pressed his wet body against hers. The water soaked through Meg's shirt. "Take off your clothes," he ordered.

She complied, letting her clothes fall once Sam released her. The towel wrapped around Sam seconds before puddle at their feet.

With great power comes great rewards and Sam took them often. The sensations that built inside of him gave flight to the deepest of desires, which grew and multiplied with a whim.

With his breathing stuttered out, heating up the air between them, he watched the body beneath him. Meg's skin so delicate, as fingers gripped hard producing a red tint under his touch. His hands bore into Meg's ribcage, holding her in place.

"AWW... Damn."

"Does it hurt?"

"YES!"

"Good."

The indescribable pain shot up as that first thrust invaded. There was no preparing, no warnings as it filled. A whimper scream echoed in the room. The movement was endless—in and out without regard as it teased that one spot. But he wanted the pain for her. It fueled his power. Incoherent moaning begged for more as the speed gained.

"Sam!" As cry muttered, a strange heat sparked more heat between them. There were hardly any words; a simple groan caused a response to desires. A teasing lick, a deep bite, hostile kisses. Sweat trickled down their skin as friction continued. The wall holding them trembled in a violent manner. A few gasps fell in the air as a moan pushed into the open. Her body was shaking, tears running down her face as Sam moved.

"Sam." A sharp breath stirred from Meg, lying beneath, enjoying the dark force that Sam had become in more ways than one. His eyes flickered, revealing two silver pupils. Then it was evident Sam was finished. "That was…."

"Get dressed and get out." Sam ordered.

"But, I can show you so much…"

"I said GET OUT!"

In that one moment, Meg knew Sam was far more dangerous than she even imagined. The darkness inside of him far deeper and it scared her.


	7. Pieces

A small, plastic, golden statue flew haphazardly, sheering from its base and flying free when Bobby used one of the trophies to pummel into Lucy's head. The trophy figurine bounced and landed next to Dean. Again, the wood base careened at her head, the impact rocking her a few feet from Dean. Bobby followed the move with a quick dose of holy water. "Get away from that boy!"

Lucy rolled from the blows, moving further away from Dean. "Oh, but he loves me."

"I've been waiting for you to show your mug. Knew there had to be some demonic hussy keeping tabs, but didn't know where." He tossed more water, letting the pain hiss on his rival. "You hell trash pack will pay for what you have done to those boys. You will give Sam back to us and …"

Cocking her head to the side, she glared at him. "He doesn't want to come back." The cruelest smiled spread on her face so large that her pearl white teeth glistened. She move closer, but he waved the flask of holy water in his hand. "This is Sam's choice. He had to come willing to us. And you… you have nothing we want that is a better bargain."

"That may be, but you took something precious from me and now… now you will get your ass back in hell!" Bobby screamed as he tossed holy water and drove Lucy back further into the hallway. The first thing they both saw was the open door of the gym- the same one that Dean had inched towards earlier. At first Bobby's face was drawn as if he feared her possibility of escape, but she did something even he didn't expect.

Lucy flicked a match, tossing it towards the gasoline line she poured earlier, forcing Bobby to jump for the tiny torch before it brought the school in a blaze. He managed to catch the flame in his hands, scorching his fingers, but the school and Dean were safe for the moment. Lucy dashed down the expanse of the hallway, and then skittered thorough the entrance, all the while laughing madly as she fled.

Bobby nursed his finger for a moment, not really showing the appropriate concern for an escaped demon, but a sly smile flashed on his face. He bent down slowly, checking Dean's pulse. "Okay, kiddo…just relax. This will all be over soon and I'll explain everything." He rubbed the knot on Dean's head before he stood and walked towards the open gym door.

When he entered, he was greeted by the sight of a trapped demon, screaming madly without a clue as to why she could not move. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE!!"

"Clear poly-sealant. Works wonders… goes on white and dries clear. Perfect for your invisible Devil's traps. Got them all over the place in here when we redid the floors. Actually, this whole place has been a giant trap for you for a long time. Just been waiting to see who would show up if I pried the corners off of Dean's mind."

"You! You should not trifle…"

"Stow it sister…let's see how you like a little exorcism. If I had the colt right now, I'd blow you to kingdom come! I want answers and I got all day to watch you scream."

**-xx-x-xx-x-xx-xx-x**

* * *

Some men quicken when danger approached and this was usually true for Dean. At the moment he was utterly disheartened with his mind in confusion and fragments. Still, somewhere deep within him his hunting intuition told him to wake up. He crawled even before his eyes opened. When they did, his first thought was for the kids. He wiggled a bit, moving before all his functions kicked in, until his hand could dislodge a crow bar on one of the blocked doors.

Dean flopped, trying to regain his focus. He grabbed his head, and shifted his upper body up. Once he was on his wobbly legs, he supported his back against the wall before he moved again. Pain screamed at him. A large knot had formed on the back of his head, throbbing as if someone was still pounding on it. When things finally settled and cleared a bit, he found his balance returning.

Whatever the pain, his insight told him to assess the danger. He didn't know why he needed to do this. He just knew it felt right. When he glanced down the hallway, both of his so-called-would-be friends were gone. Distantly, he heard 

music coming from the auditorium. An indication the students and staff were blissfully unaware of any danger. He took comfort in that.

Then, he heard shouting and screaming of indescribable torture. As a shrill blood curdling scream rang from the gym, he ran with all his might. He arrived just in time to see a large cloud of black smoke pour of the Lucy's mouth. "HOLY…."

"Dean?" Bobby said. "Wait… I can explain."

There was no explanation necessary in Dean's mind, there was only running-running from this madness. He turned and bolted out the door, sprinted for the hallway exit. Bobby immediately pursued, but he had a difficult time keeping up.

Not even stopping, Dean barely slowed down when his body slammed and opened the fire door. He rushed outside. Ernie or Bobby, whatever his intentions, Dean didn't care. He had been played. He felt it as if he were used garbage to be tossed around for everyone's pleasure. Letting his instincts lead him, he knew one truth- Chicago. You were being led to Chicago. His gut had almost taken him to Chicago before. He may not know why he knows this Sam guy on TV or why anyone he knew would be watching a fire, but it felt right. For the first time in months, it felt like he knew what he was doing. Nothing or no one would stop him now.

So, he just ran as fast as he could. Even with his head injury, he was still faster than Bobby. The older man was at his heels though, screaming wait and pushing himself way too hard to catch up.

Dean dived down the stairs in front of the school, more than he descended them, just bounces of his feet taking two to three steps at a time. At breakneck speed, he slid across a car in the lot to the driver side of his truck, ripped the door open, and jumped inside. He even started the engine before his driver side door had closed.

He stepped on the gas and took a breath, watching Bobby disappear in his rearview mirror.

**-xx-xx-x-xx-xx-x-x**

* * *

**4 hour later…..**

Two shadow figures danced in graceful battle in almost sheer darkness. Every move and countermove seemed choreographed, but there was urgency there. It was a battle, not a friendly spar. From the determination and force in every kick and blow, neither opponent would give up easy. When Sam moved, the figure before him blocked and struck with a series of blows. Finally, Sam found himself flung straight on his back, landing against the hardwood of his apartment floor.

"Whoa, Easy tiger!" A man said as he pinned Sam.

"Dean?"

Sam sat straight up, feeling a crushing on his chest. When he glanced down the amulet around his neck glowed. With more and more frequency that damn thing glowed. He took it off, tossing it against the wall as if he wanted it to shatter and stop haunting him. Before the necklace hit anything, a panic rose in Sam when he thought the item might break and be lost to him. The necklace thudded and landed unharmed, but the glow of earlier had stopped.

Sam tossed in his bed. His hair covered parts of his eyes, dangling across his face, clinging to the sweat of his face. The shades of silver glinted in his eyes, the once hazel brown iris paled to a shining pool of nothingness. A muttered groan left him as he tried moving from the bed, the silk blankets slipping off his body. He couldn't find rest tonight.

It was frustrating. His dreams held so many deep and secretive meanings. He was surrounded by thousands in a demonic army, but something was wrong. Did he need more power? Now, a name appeared in his dream. The same damn name that two other demons had uttered during torture and threats. Why had two demons under his captured mentioned the name Dean? When he thought on it, nothing popped in his head, but it seemed to be important.

He tossed his leather jacket around him and wrapped it closer to him. Finally, he retrieved his precious talisman and let it fall over his heart. For whatever reason, he felt at ease. He hadn't felt at ease as far back as he could remember. The golden idol began to warm. Then he heard a voice calling him. "Sammy? Sammy please...I need help." It begged.

Sam's dark eyes rose and he quickly sat up, staring at the man who had apparently been standing in front of him this whole time looking intently at Sam.

"We have to move." Dean said.

"You expect me to jump. Do you know…" Those silver eyes watched every movement, studying the man in front of hm with curiosity.

"Sam? Dad got hurt in Pittsburgh… he's really bad….please just get dressed…"

Sam froze as the vision disappeared, falling away. Sam didn't know what to think. It could be factions of the other army giving him these illusions, but he would know it. He could read their thoughts so easily. How could he degrade himself with thought of some human?

There was something pure about the vision, and it left a pleading in his mind. He focused on the image, searching for something. Finally, there was a spark- the man was a hunter- a good one- maybe the best. No details about him, just the knowledge that this Dean was a demon hunter. Suddenly, he felt a threat. He convinced himself this was an omen. He feared this man, knew there was supposed to be an ending. Dean was supposed to be dead. He didn't know how he knew that or by what means this hunter was doomed for death or even how he had survived. Instead he focused on one fact. If this man had cheated death, he was a big threat to any of Sam's plans.

There was fear now when he should rightfully fear no one. He was a god among men. This man was coming for him and no spoiled little brat of a hunter. He stopped his self- motivating demand. "Son?" There was a family of hunters and Dean was in that line, but he didn't know from where the line sprang forth. No matter, no hunter would get the chance to get near him. There was no reason to let this one live. He would send out the troops and search this one out. As this Dean died, he would spit in his face just before he gutted him.


	8. Edge of Control

_**Author's note: Back from my crazy vacation! So I have a short chapter for you. Hope you enjoy.**_

**-x-x-xx-xx-x-xx-x-x-x-x-x-x-x**

Bael popped in the local café, grabbing his usual booth, which wasn't that in demand in the nearly empty greasy spoon. Actually, most to the schmucks, as he called the humans dumb enough to strike a bargain with him, were already sleeping off a good beer buzz. Instinctively, Josie brought him his usual: A cup of coffee and the sweetest piece of pumpkin pie, just like she had for the past three weeks. "You know I could help you out of this place." He remarked as she poured coffee that could put Starbucks out of business.

"And do what? Sling hash some place else!? What's the point in that?" She said as he left the pot on his table and pushed a red hair spiral curl behind her ear. "Not for me, but thanks for the vote of confidence Mark."

"You could have your heart's desire." He grinned, using the handsome face of his meat puppet to entice her.

"I'll take Orlando Bloom with a side of Johnny Depp on top. Can you make that one happen?" Josie smarted.

"I can do things you would never imagine." He said with the slickest of charm. Then as if he smelled something foul, he became alert. Bael, an ancient demon, was powerful enough to detect the presence of his kind. Unfortunately, he already knew running was senseless.

"So, I suppose you are going to take me away from all this?" Josie asked condescendingly.

"Sorry, my dear, but I'm afraid my dance card will be full soon. Seems like those poor suckers today will get the better end of my bargain. Won't they all be shocked in a few years when the piper doesn't come to collect?"

"What? You are strange sometimes. I have work to fin….."

"Nevermind. The movement of Heaven and Hell are beyond the likes of this world." With that, he winked a fond goodbye to his favorite waitress and made his way to what would be his last day on any plane of existence. While he walked the several yards to the place he had called home for the past month, he pondered his revenge. Even with the thought of nonexistence looming in his mind, he vowed he would ruin Lilith's plans for Sam Winchester. Within minutes, he stepped inside the Victorian mansion to await the dark force he felt coming his way.

-x-x-x-xx-x-x-xx-x-x

Stepping into the home was like walking into the Gothic Era reborn on Earth. Every wall embraced some intricate design that looked like wrought iron spider webs more than anything else. The floor beneath Sam's feet was covered in dark Persian rugs, which hid any detection of his footfalls. The halls of almost every floor were the same, dark and dreary.

"Some demons have no taste" Meg spouted, grinning as Sam took point, walking in front of her and Lilith.

"Quiet little one before you fall from favor," Lilith reminded.

There was little need to keep quiet, not with Sam on their side. No matter how powerful the demon, it was a bit like pitting a mouse against an army tank. Still, it didn't take long for their prey to make his presence known. Stepping from the shadows, the demon strutted confidently.

"Hello Bael." Lilith breathed sharply in distaste, but it also held a twisted satisfaction and pomposity of an already guaranteed victory.

"I prefer to meet my demise head on with a bit of flair" Bael gestured, flipping back his long blond locks as if he were in some melodramatic movie. "Just when I was on the record of most souls sold in a day, too. Your arrival was indeed ill timed. Did you forget who taught you to manipulate such fragile humans? You're in this position because of what I taught you." He directed at Lilith.

"There comes a time when the student becomes the master." She rallied back at him.

"I remind you that one day you will feel the same way about your apt pupil. And you, Meg, after I helped you and Azazel crawl out of hell."

"You should have known we would come for you." Meg reminded. "You days were numbered as soon as this all began. There is no room for the old ones."

"I am truly hurt. I knew it was only a matter of time before you darkened my door with your human pawn."

Sam took no anger in the comment, yet his powers reacted upon instinct, throwing the demon possessed man as if he were a leaf trapped on a breeze's whim.

The man regained his ground and faced the invading trio head on, glaring as Sam. "Let me live and I'll follow YOU, but you have to kill your master. I am stronger than she. Why do you think she has you to do her dirty work?"

"Aww. . . But you're so weak and defenseless . . . it's so hard to resist!" A smirk curled on Sam's lips. "You can't hope to fight us."

"Yet, there is someone even you can't defeat. He will come for you, this much I know. He plagues your dreams. We have underestimated that family bond too many times….With too many plans ruined by Winchesters" Bael commented with an all knowing grin.

"Oh yeah, will see about that!" Sam offered confidently. "He will die by my hand."

"Wouldn't that be an interesting turn of events?" Bael laughed. "But, poor Lilith wouldn't like that. It would ruin her well laid pl…."

"You will leave the Winchesters to me Sam." Lilith demanded with a sense of fear.

"Hmmpf… You are making the same mistake Azazel made, my dear sister." The demon directed his condescending tone towards Lilith. "He will bite the hands that fed his demonic flame. Why does a powerful demon care about one human? Hmmmmm…. Almost wish you would let me live to see your puppet turn on you. You true believers that Sam here is Samael reborn. Do you really thing he is the angel of death you waited for?"

"Your words are meaningless to me. I have accomplished what no other in Hades accomplished." Lilith gloated.

"So, boy king. How does it feel to lead the demonic army and do the bidding of one far lesser than you? Did she tell you that dear Dean could still be saved without your bargain? If you know the way."

"That name…" Sam started before he promptly shut up, digging inside him for some clue to secret that everyone apparently knew but him.

"You see... hell is not like human brains imagine. You don't really go to hell. That is what waits for the end of days for all little bad demon. At the moment, Dean would have gone to Hades. A holding tank of pain, but much easier to get to him."

"Kill him!" Lilith ordered.

Sam pulled out his knife and swung it at the demon before him. The demon waved a hand and tried to push Sam away.

Then Meg appeared at his side. "You know I love it when they fight."

"You picked the wrong side. You aligned demons against me to kill me. That's unforgiveable. You had a choice to stand with me." Lilith instructed.

"Then I am wiser than I thought to die now!" Bael screamed as he tossed Meg away with his powers.

Sam dodged a swing and suddenly impacted a strong knife thrust into Bael's abdomen. He reached out with his mind and raised the demon in midair like a puppet held by invisible strings. He hand squeezed to a close, while Bael's clavicle snapped, breaking the collar bone and the top several ribs into shards. Then slowly all the bones in the human body broke under Sam's command.

"You are so going to have to show me how to do that." Meg smarted as she took the blade from Bael's and handed it to Sam.

"Not a parlor trick for amateurs." Sam instructed.

Not being stupid, Meg bowed slightly.

Sam chuckled. There was something odd about his laugh. It seemed inhuman, like he didn't even care about people anymore.

--x-xx-x-x-xx-x-xx-x-x-x-

From the time Dean had left the school and started driving, some part of him felt lighter as if he had made the correct decision. There had to be answers to why he has been plagued by images of a life he couldn't understand, but seemed to be complete at home in. Secretly, he wondered if he was nuts. I mean who wants to have a life that looks like a horror movie.

He had driven for a five hours now and knew the time to get gas was fast approaching. It was best to fuel up before it became too dark outside. It wasn't quiet night yet, but it was defiantly about to rain. For some reason, the approaching storm didn't surprise Dean.

He blinked, staring down at the gauge. He still had a ¼ of a tank, but he vowed to stop at the next gas station. When he glanced back up he noticed the head lights of a car approaching rapidly from behind. Soon the vehicle had over taken his bumper. Even in the dusky approaching dark, he knew it was Ernie's car. "Sonvabitch!" He uttered thinking he had to get away from this pack somehow. He didn't understand how he got involved with this man with too many names, but he needed time to sort it all out. His foot rammed down, while the glad thought that he wasn't yet on Empty sparked him to press even harder.

Suddenly his mind snapped to another place. The image of a child asking for help, for the first time in a long time, popped in his head. The man before him was angry, but melted when the soft words passed Dean's small child lips. Soon Bobby reached out for him, keeping him safe. The child crawled inside those arms and almost collapsed from sheer exhaustion. "I got you kid. Hold on, okay?"

While his attention was diverted for too long in the memory, his truck veered off, slamming head first into a guardrail. The car spun out, twisting donuts across the lanes before he hit a concrete slab, which sent the truck into rolls. He flipped over and over. The top smashed in on him as it hit the asphalt, cracking the safety glass in a web like pattern, but not shattering.

"Damn it," he screeched as his eyes shot open. The truck continued in the roll. His head smacked something, maybe glass he thought. He was upside down, going in and out of consciousness. The only thought he had was to tuck in on himself. He already hurt all over. Finally, the truck settled in the grass of some field, while the underside of the truck caught fire. Small flickers of orange flame appeared from the twisted metal.

Dean understood his time was limited; the smoke could kill him as surely as the crash. The pungent fumes of spilling gasoline smacked into his nostrils. His right wrist was bent back at a sickening angle against the horn button. Painfully, he pulled his hand away and the noise in the truck stopped. There was almost so much pain that he was numb. He tried to crawl out of the truck, but got nowhere. He had to get out. He wasted precious seconds struggling, in his shocked state, with the door handle before he realized that the car lay on its side, pinning the door against the ground.

Dean scrambled for the passenger side but was pinned and held down by his still attached seat belt. Frantically he searched for the latch. He was suspended by his seat belt keeping him in place. He pumped his legs to get leverage to release it, but pain shot through. He fought off the loss of consciousness, thinking if only Bobby or Sam were there to help him. He didn't know why he wanted those people now, but the idea gave him comfort.

He began to cough from the smoke inhalation, each lung full of smoke now, burning at his insides. His eyes were red raw and both streamed uncontrollably as he fumbled with the belt. A rush of hot air and the fire spread to engulf the front of the truck. At once the heat became intolerable. The shock waved to an almost paralyzing fear. To survive the crash only to be burnt alive, Dean's mind reeled. "Not like this!' he demanded. "Mom!"

Glass shards suddenly flew in on him as a man yelled." Cover your face!"

Dean's hand went to protect himself as Bobby kicked in the splintered windshield. He pulled at Dean, who was trapped in the driver's seat, trying to get the seatbelt undone. Dean started to feel weak and nauseous; he could feel his body beginning to slow. Dimly deep down inside he knew that he was losing the battle. His brain was starved of oxygen and was in danger of passing out. If he did, he knew he would die.

A knife jutted inside the truck cabin and sliced the seat belt in a violent jerk. With a supreme effort of will Bobby lifted Dean out of the hole in the windshield. The driver coughed violently as he went. Small drops of fire started to spread to the engine, burning Bobby's arm.

Dean flopped, leaning against Bobby. He tried to pull away, but had to focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Small steps were all he could manage before he fell down. He struggled back to his feet, but almost immediately fell back over.

Bobby swung Dean on his shoulders, knowing they had to move further away from the fire before the truck literally went boom. Dean tried to fight his rescuer, but he was too out of it and too far gone from the smoke he inhaled. Bobby lifted the younger man with effort, but gumption alone allowed him the strength.

He staggered less than ten yards when the car exploded. A great ball of orange, red and black flame erupted from the vehicle sending fragments of hot metal shooting into the air. An invisible cushion of heat struck the men from behind, and threw them both like rag dolls.

They landed sharply, but Bobby pulled Dean to rest on his arm. "Dean? Answer me boy." There was no fight now; the blast had finally taken Dean's to darkness. "Hold on, son!"


	9. Shadows of the Past

The Trailblazer inn dotted the lonely highway as a forgotten monument to American's past. Before its closure it was the sole stop for gas and lodging along the back road for two hundred miles, but that was before the interstate diverted the traffic. Despite time, the rooms were still in okay condition for a structure left unattended and unmanned for 20 years. The place may be a bit ugly, but at least it was shelter.

In truth, Dean had been in worse accommodations. As he awoke, he slowly felt the lumps of the bed beneath his body, or perhaps the lumps were on his body. He couldn't be sure which statement was true. When his eyes opened fully, he jutted his head upwards as far as he could and found his gaze locked on a burn mark on the plastic head board. A cigarette, once placed on the bed's built in bookshelves, had burned a starburst pattern of orange and black. An aqua blue Q-Tip rested on the ledge too, next to a black condom wrapper. All clues indicated this place hadn't had guests since the 70's.

When he slowly regained some ability to think and things became clearer to him, he tried to get up, but discovered his wrists and feet were bound to restrict his escape. The thick motel blankets were bunched around his waist as if someone cared enough to at least keep him warm. He bucked until the covering fell away, exposing the ropes holding him. All that was missing in Dean's mind was a sledge hammer and Kathy Bates, except it was too sunny for Dean to be stuck in a horror movie reincarnation.

It was near sunset, and a gentle breeze played on the leaves and blades of grass outside a hole that used to hold a window. Up above was a clear blue sky, blemished only by a few fluffy clouds lazily floating in the still air. In every sense it was a tranquil summer day. One figure stood by the window, staring at the countryside, taking in the atmosphere. "Don't move around so much. I'm surprised you woke so soon after yesterday. Physically, you were knocked around a bit. A few cuts and bruise." Bobby crossed slowly to the newly awakened man.

"Why are you doing this!?"

"You've been under demon control."

"Are you some nut job!? Ermie, please..."

"For the tenth time, my name's not Ernie! I'm your friend. I had to have a good cover story to get close to you. I didn't know who or what was controlling you. I looked all over for you after I found out what Sam had become. I knew you were in trouble if you weren't already dead. I thought you WERE dead and it killed me, but when I tracked you down…. You walked passed me without even a spark of recognition. I knew somethin' was up. And Sam… what he's doing… the evil that's in him …But, I couldn't leave ya. "

"Ernie, please!"

The older man's heart broke, hearing the man he regarded like a son continually calling him Ernie. "Hell fire and damnation, will you just call me Bobby. At least give me one small hope you might be in there and know what you mean to me."

Dean's shimmering eyes looked him over, mistrust plainly expressed. "Then let me go!"

"I can't. I had to make sure you wouldn't run."

Cursing under his breath, Dean treaded carefully. "Listen, I don't care what weirdness you're messed up in..."

"Look at me. Can't you sense anything?"

Dean didn't speak this time, but stared off at the man before him with too many names and unclear intentions.

Bobby knew Dean couldn't help his fuzzy memory. The fact that Dean remembered anything at all was a miracle in itself. The remote hope that he had broken through the manipulation of a demon to latch onto anything was more than could be expected. Dean was mentally broken and he needed to recover, but this may take some time and lot of loving care. And they had precious little time for any of that. He only hoped Dean would forgive him for doing this the painful way.

Opening a world of misery and evil again to the unsuspecting Dean may be more than the young hunter could handle at once, not to mention the physical pain this process would cause. Long ago Dean had built his own walls to block out the painful memories and emotions. Bobby only hoped Dean could cope with it all again.

Bobby knelt by the edge of the mattress, still speaking in a low, smooth tone. "I need you to help me," he said slowly, a pit forming in his gut. "At least give me a sign that you might remember who you are. I have a remedy for this, but it's going to hurt." Dean was still, even as his captor checked the bonds on Dean's wrists. "Damn it," he muttered, fearing that getting to Dean was going to be a harder prospect than he thought. "Come on, Son. You know me…. Remember?"

Dean flinched, clenching his jaw and bracing himself for whatever sick idea the man had now. He started to tug at his bonds, legs thrashing wildly as he tried to kick himself free of the bed.

"Here, drink this and everything will okay…." He held up a mug with a strange liquid that looked like orange juice spiked by coffee.

"No freakin' way."

"This will help. Trust me." With shaking hands, Bobby held Dean's head still with one hand and held the glass to Dean's lips. "Sorry that I have to do this the hard way." The liquid was abruptly forced down Dean's throat.

Before Bobby wondered if it was working, Dean let out a shattering scream. His head jerked to the side, while he arched his abdomen off the bed, crumpling back down a second later. His bonds strained under the pressure and release as he repeated this action several times. Dean tried to scream again, feeling him lurch back into control of himself for a second. He flailed against his bonds instead, rejoicing a little as his legs kicked off the bed. He felt the ropes burn on his wrists and ankles as he violently tugged at them. "My wrists really hurt," he begged. "STOP THIS!"

Bobby stood beside Dean's bed, close to panicking as he realized that Dean was hurting because of him. Bobby noticed that his friend looked so small and not at all dangerous, but he had seen this kid in battle. He was a natural fighter, but at the moment, he was a demon fighter, with a broken spirit.

Another wild thrash and Dean fell still. His green eyes locked straight above him in terror. Mary trapped in flames replayed before him. He wanted to reach out to her, but his arms couldn't move. "MOM!! AAAAAAAAAHRRRRRRRRR!" A wave of sickness washed over him with a familiar throbbing. Tears welled up in the pained eyes and his muscles shook and twitched over his body. Through his few clear moments, he heard a voice apologize.

A spike of fear ran through Dean's heart, pounding in alarm. Suddenly a much younger version of Bobby was chasing him. Dean was small, a little over seven years-old. The man was overtaking him and would soon catch up to him. Pure panic and an illness clung to Dean's cheeks. When he glanced back, his pursuer disappeared. His legs moved, but he wasn't watching where he was going. Without warning he smashed into something. Momentarily stupefied, Dean was confronted with the wavering image of a huge and surely dangerous hunter. "Easy kid. You have a lot to answer for but I ain't goin' to hurt ya!" The man scooped Dean up and secured him tightly, keeping the young boy under control and safe.

The thought didn't last long before more vague images splashed over his mind. Most of them looked like mirages behind fog, so Dean wasn't entirely sure it was real or if he was just dreaming. Then the stupidest things sprang from the far corners of his brain: His first crush was his 3rd grade Science teacher. Sam liked donuts with orange juice. The first night he met Bobby, the man stayed up all night with him when he was sick. He hid a pet lizard from John for weeks. Sam broke his arm fighting a zombie. When his Metallica tape was eaten by the tape deck in the Impala, Sam got him an IPOD with all the songs already on it. Bits of memories were coming too fast and too much.

The next thing he knew, he felt like lead, as though someone was moving through sludge. All he could do was stare, while one part of him screamed unheard in his mind at his powerlessness. Dean felt like his mind jolted upwards, like it was pulling him from his body. He vaguely wondered what was happening. He heard a soft noise of a pocket knife opening. His mind wouldn't let him imagine what could happen to him now or feel danger. His past was rushing too fast to permit much else. But there was little need for fear as his bonds were cut. Dean lurched suddenly, trying to double over in pain.

"Dean?" The voice sounded too calm. "Is everything alright?"

Heavy breathing was the only answer. He felt so frozen cold and overwhelmed with a disorientation that wouldn't evaporate. Too many painful memories strangled his mind. This was a horrific situation, just like so many times before feeling damaged and alone. "Sammy..." He whispered in a raspy voice, but the sound drowned out among his moans. It felt like someone had erected walls in his head and now slammed them down with a jackhammer. He pleaded in nonsense noises, thinking he might make it all go away. His pleas reached the air, and he felt reassuring hand on his shoulder

He heard Bobby mutter something, and the he let out a chilling hiss sound when the words finished. Dean felt the twinge of searing pain run through him, and he flinched. Again he heard words that he thought meant something, but Dean couldn't make it out. He prayed for something, anything so long as the agony stopped. Everything about this seemed like a bad dream, closing his eyes against the world that was driving him absolutely crazy.

He rolled around on his bed, muffled his groans in his lumpy pillow and mattress. Rocking back and forth, the hunched man wailed uncontrollably. His eyes were red-rimmed housing the glazed, glassy look in his eyes "Help me" he moaned. His mind was harassed with the plagues of dreams. Dean bolted upright in bed with his face buried in his biceps, his arms clawing at the nape of his neck. His arms convulsed, while his breathing became even faster.

"You're hyperventilating," Bobby said brusquely, "Calm down. Shh… it's okay." Bobby ducked under Dean's arms and pulled him up. Dean froze, his stomach clenching into a knot. He immediately tried to knock the man off and jump up, but Bobby effortlessly and gently pushed him back and held him firm. "I'm right here," he replied in a soothing voice as he rubbed Dean's back.

Pain was still radiating from Dean. "I can't do this," he choked. Dean's heart was pounding in his chest.

"You're already doing it."Bobby gently wrapped his arms fully around Dean's shaking form. He nuzzled Dean on his upper arm. "Take it easy. I had to break the hold on you. Things will snap back into place, but you need to rest now. We have a job to finish."

It felt like someone poured an ocean of cool over him. Dean let out a shaky breath, the pain instantly subsiding to a dull sting. Wordlessly, he curled up against Bobby, moving his head to rest on the man's shoulder.

"Hush now, just relax."

Shivering and shaking as sweat trickled down his neck, Dean moved closer to try and warm up, tucking himself into a ball. "I'm freezing!"

"Just lie still and it will get better."

A hand moved away from him for a minute. Something covered Dean, but he didn't know if it was a blanket. He heard the same calm voice reassuring him as it had so many years ago. It was just like he remembered it being when he was a boy. It was as if time had folded in on itself and he was seven again. He knew he was not quite alone in the world, or in his grief. He was loved, even if he didn't deserve to be. He held tightly to the older man who was much stronger than he would ever be.

Exhausted he nestled deeper. Within minutes, his chest rose and fell in a gracefully manner. He appeared to be falling asleep, and was muttering under his breath. Bobby ran his hand over the back of Dean's head, spouting reassuring words. Dean looked more at peace now in the deepness of his slumber than he had any other time Bobby had ever seen him. He only hoped when Dean awoke, he would be ready to face the ultimate battle with his beloved brother.

* * *


	10. Bite the Hand

Reflection. There was hardly any time at all for reflection in Sam's mind. The closest thing he had to an actual thought driven by his own head was this need to end the images of this hunter, this bane, called Dean, whose image popped up at the most unlikely and unwanted at times.

When he made up his mind to track this obviously dangerous hunter, his commander shot him down. More often than not, he was dispatched to rid Lilith of an enemy, quite often with his watcher, Meg. The union of those two women ill suited Sam's taste. "Like I need a babysitter." He mused. Regardless, the war Sam waged could not really be considered a true war. In order for a conflict to really exist, the opposition should at least have a chance, even a weak one, to fight back.

There was little hope of defense as Sam grew in strength and control over the powers inside him. It would be truer to say Sam led a massacre, felling all in his wake. The opposition was on the verge of collapse. Join this army or die. In most cases, Sam didn't offer the option. He much preferred the sticky end, killing them all. Now it seemed that a unified army of hell was within grasp with humanity next on the list to fall.

Sam couldn't even remember how he got in this war, but it seemed to him he had always been fighting. It felt natural, almost born to it. And of course, he did enjoy the pain and punishment more and more. He fancied many manners of afflicting pain, though he did have favorites. He may wreck an opponent in ways only his powers could do. Yet, the tactile sensation of strangulation held pleasures. He relished the sheer joy of strangling the life out of person until they were close to death, only to let them live for a few days as he watched the varying shades of bruises appear and fade. Just as they healed, he would start all over again. Currently, he wondered if it was true that you could kill someone with a thousand cuts. A worthy experiment he felt he should give a whirl during a future kill.

It seemed he was only really happy when he inflicted such terror on his prey that it seemed their hearts would eat a path out of their chests. Only then would he would feel immense satisfaction.

"Kasdeya is our next target." Lilith ordered.

"Sounds like fun, doesn't it?" Meg offered.

"I'm not in the mood."

"Not in the mood…" Lilith laughed. "I gave…"

"You gave me nothing!"

"I gave you everything." Lilith exclaimed. She sounded brave, but her body language screamed of fear of losing control. Sam already exceeded abilities beyond her means. Without the allegiance of the old ones- the most powerful of the demon kind, she would not stand a chance against him. But that was the beauty of Sam, the delicate line between control and chaos. Lilith said in a failed attempt to reassure him "you need me to guide you."

Sam lifted his head. An enraged roar erupted from his throat, a ghostly, deafening wail. Lilith and Meg backed up quickly.

"You don't know the sacrifices I made for you." Lilith tried to reason.

"Sacrifices…hmmm….what an interesting idea." He slipped a malevolent smile cross his features. Without warning, Sam's mind snapped into the darkest desires of his mind, while he tossed Lilith like a rag doll. "It's time for what I want!" He drove her back. He hated her with everything he possessed. Every fiber of his skin charged with unequivocal hate.

Meg strutted back in the conversation. "I love it when you do that." He quickly drew her to him, holding her back against his chest as her feet swung wildly trying to connect with the floor once more. "Sam, let me go."

His next action could be best described as scrapping week old gum off the bottom of a shoe more than releasing a human being, even if was only a host for Meg's presence. The end result was the same, Meg scampering back, hoping to get far enough away to keep herself from Sam's wrath, not wanting to be merely a victim of poor timing.

His hold on Lilith remained constant, using only a small portion of his focus to control her. As for Meg, he needed much less of his reserve to deal with her. He didn't even smile when he glanced towards her. Out of nowhere, Sam raised her in the air with his mind. She displayed a surprised, depressed look on her face as Sam prepared to drive terror into her. Unable to move, she could do nothing but watch as he marched over to a side table, pulled open a drawer, and retrieve Ruby's knife.

The sinking feeling in her stomach confirmed her fears as he began to toy with it, spinning it round and round. The effect of the glinting metal was almost euphoric, matching the gleam in Sam's eyes.

"Sam, I'm on your side… remember…."

"Shall we play?" he sneered, bringing the sharp edge dangerously close to her jugular. She swallowed harshly, but said nothing. "You like play time, remember?"

"Yeah...I'd do anything for you. You know that right?" She lied, trying to sound at least half convincing.

Of course Meg forgot he was a telepath, reading her every thought. "Do you know what the best thing of life is?" he yelled, rhetorically. "It ends so easily." With that he closed his eyes and nodded his head as Meg's neck followed the same directed action. It pushed too far and snapped.

The demonic part of her held onto the damaged host, but that wasn't enough pain for Sam. He wanted her gone, expunged from his sight and memory like he was correcting a past wrong he couldn't really name. The knife moved quickly, flying through the air to slice thin gashes in Meg's twisting body. They game fast and furious, random and multiplying quickly. "One... two…skip a few…99 …100! Guess that old wives' tale isn't true. Too bad! I had such hopes for it."

"Please, you know I'll follow you. I'm your servant."

"Aww. So sweet, but, I'll give you a quick death for old time's sake. You've just been a pawn to so many." Then the knife flew as if it came from nowhere and jabbed the sharp blade straight into her temple. A split-second later, the lifeless demon collapsed on the floor.

"Now where were we? Yes, you were about to beg, I think."

"You will pay."

"I doubt it." He walked closer, not content to overpower her with supernatural means. This seemed more personal, yet he didn't know why he felt this way. He left her fall to the floor, straddled her arms, pinning them with his knees. She fought back with all the demonic means she had, but it was as useless as a fly trying to escape a glue trap. She was a mere buzzing annoyance to Sam, and no real match for his plans. He grasped her thin fingers on her right hand, pulling one of the digits until a crisp snap crackled. His knee drove hard inside her palm; all of his weight upon it until her heard a secondary crack as he crushed the bones to dust with his demonic powered strength. Then he began on the other hand, repeating the torture with each delicate finger.

Lilith shook, flopping spasmodically with each crack of her bones. She was pale, sweating, and biting her lips in pain. She bit down hard on her lip until she could no longer bear it. Sam was unconcerned, unnaturally, about the lack of noise. His only interested being in how much pain he could inflict before the human body passed out or gave up. Knowing that the fate of this battle was in his hands, he gathered up his power. He planned the entire thing in his head. She was just another demon unprepared for the power within him. Every command she uttered before stockpiled into a self-destruct button inside him, waiting to go off. Today was that day.

"Nothing to say? Normally you're always so demanding when you have control?"

She said nothing, trying to infuriate the man holding her hostage to make his lose focus, and then she could call her army - her allies- to help.

"Att...Attt... attt... you mean my army" Sam corrected, reading her thoughts. "Got anything else to say? ahh… nothing….Fine, have it your way."

With that, he drove the Ruby's knife into her right shoulder, eliciting a pained scream from her. He smiled coldly and continued to drag the blade through the sinewy muscle and skin, working his way down. Her shirt became damp with a deep shade of red. He pulled the instrument out, letting his fingers gently dance over the delicate flesh he just cut. Finally, she screamed.

"Fun isn't it? I'm going to hurt you, like you hurt me," he vowed, realizing she had caused him some unremembered damage now. This was revenge. "Whatever you've done to me she-witch I has come to you in spades." Forever lost in the darkness and madness, his senses heightened and sharpened. Right now, the sound of her scream was pleasing him in ways he didn't believe were possible. "You have a secret and I want it now."

He focused all of his thoughts and energy into cracking the stronghold inside of Lilith's mind. Layer after layer, he pried until he found an image- one that haunted him. "You don't want me to kill this Dean! No one can control me if he is gone. Hmmmm... he can destroy me... I doubt that...I am not afraid like you!" With that, he drove the knife into her stomach, causing her body to recoil violently, forcing the blade as deep as he could. He pulled himself erect and yanked the weapon out of her, causing another scream of pain as her energy crackled like music to his ears, listening to a symphony of demonic death.


	11. Welcome Back

The longest moan in recorded history spilled from chapped, cracking lips, long dry for however long he had been asleep. Consciously, he was aware he wanted water, but he didn't want to wake up even for that .

A gentle hand nudged his arm, prompting him to awaken, comforting him back into the world with a simple gesture. He flung one arm over his eyes, protesting the thought of being alert. The hand stopped tapping, gingerly grabbed Dean's wrist, and pulled the arm back into the safety of the covers. He felt a gentle rub on his shoulder, this time it told Dean it was okay to rest if he needed it. And for certain, he wanted sleep more than anything right now for as many hours as he could.

After several hours passed, the room had gone still. Finally, Dean's eyes snapped open. For a second he felt some sense of urgency, but slowly that adrenaline burned away. He kicked and untangled the comforter, which was tightly tucked around his entire body. While he wanted to free himself, he cracked open the encasing and was instantly grateful for the covering's warmth when frigid air hit his skin. He immediately pulled the lush comforter back to his shoulders as he got on his feet.

In the distance, he heard the crackling of a large fire, but the warmth did not reach this far. A loud boot fall creaked on the weakened floor structure. When he detected that noise, he spun around. Whatever it was, it came from another room, close, but not too close. Silently, he opened the door of the forgotten room, finding a long, panel covered hallway. His nose wrinkled at the bleak looking faded faux wood. Without a single window to brighten it, it almost looked like an elongated tomb. At least, the lack of windows kept the temperature less intense.

Without warning, Dean felt dizzy and leaned again the dirty wall. He wasn't sure if he felt this way from the remains of what happen last night or from the psychedelic carpet below him that could cause vertigo on any given day and even make Escher envious. Once he gained some bearings, he continued to walk further down the expanse towards a light at one end.

"It's about time. I hear ya stirring. Well, come on… we ain't got all day." He heard come from the far room. He might have been alarmed, but the tone of the voice gave him a warm feeling. He stumbled forward until he almost fell inside of the room. Within seconds someone had caught him and kept him upright. "Okay, taker easy. It's been a rough one." Bobby said.

Dean narrowed his eyes and studied the face. He knew him somehow, but he couldn't connect it all the way yet. All he knew was he liked him and he didn't know why. "Who are you?" he finally asked, feeling a sense of déjà vu .

His gaze widened to take in the room. A roaring fire, food, supplies, weapons all laid out like a strange buffet table before him. He afforded Dean a slight smile. "We're friends. Just think on it. Sorry I had to give you that awful crap…"

"Bobby?"

"Yep. It's me… You remembered," he said. "For a moment I thought it didn't work,"

"What did you give me? Feels like a jackhammer in my head."

"Come on, sit down. You have a lot to take in." Bobby led his friend to a rickety chair, guiding him down as gently as possible. "The accommodations are much, but the location is prime. By now your demon keepers are aware you are on your own. But, at least they don't know you aren't under their control anymore."

"Lucy… wait... you killed her… "

"She is... well was... using witchcraft to block your memories… and induce someone new ones. Kinda like demonic chemical brainwashin'. Took me some time…"

"Wait... what… I …. How in the hell did this all happen? Bobby? Bobby…where's Sam? Where..."

"We'll get him back, kiddo." He said with a tone of disappointment .

"Where is he!? I have to find him! If the demons had me, then…. they have him somewhere...I..."

"I'm afraid he did something to keep you safe. Best I can figure, he traded himself to keep…"

"He wouldn't do that. I won't let him."

"You don't get much say in that now. Sam's gone to the other team. I was on my way to meet up with you two… on that last day… but he sent me on a goose chase. By the time, I tracked that damned Impala, he was possessed by powers the likes I have never seen. I knew he did something. Then I spent my energy finding you or what was left…"

"Whoa, this isn't even possible. I mean I would never forget Sam. I couldn't…"

"You didn't have a choice. I saw you at that school, thought you were pulling some gig, looking for info to save Sam, so I waited to approach you. Kid, you were gone. Didn't even blink in recognition. Knew something was wrong, so I stuck with ya and tried to pry the lid off the ideas in that noggin of yours. Got close a few times, but then it seemed for every step I made, you took two back."

"It was like I knew something, but couldn't…. how could I be so stupid."

"Don't be too hard on yourself. Took me months to find out how to fix ya, but I needed to know who was pulling the strings. I gave you an ancient witchcraft formula, was hell tracking down mandrake, but figured it was worth it. Don't know how good it worked, but you seem to be more like your bright eyed bushy tailed kick ass self. It may seem fuzzy, but it's all floating in your skulls somewhere. Think you can eat?"

"I don't want to eat, I want to find Sam." Dean said, wavering as he stood. "Let's get him!"

"You think you can beat him when he has gone full on dark side!"

"I have to try!"

"I know, but at least we do this as smart as we can. Sit down back down before you fall down. You give me any grief and I will turn you over my knee…. Went through a hell of a lot to find you and watch over you, so you can give me…"

He stood, defying Bobby's command. "Alright, but you won't be able to…"

Bobby ignored the half delivered ultimatum in turn. "Before you took off, I managed to get some information from dear Lucy. Seems the demons believe Sam is the rebirth of Samael. According to some lore, Samael took Lilith as his bride after she left Adam."

"God, that is disturbing. Ugh…. Ewww… I may need some brain bleach!"

"You want distrubring… so is the fact he is building an army with her. Samael was an archangel… the accuser, seducer and destroyer. But, he has been referenced as both good and evil, depending on the spelling in the reference. Samael- darkside... the poison of God or Samuel- keeper of God. "

"Great, so demons want Sam cause they made a huge ass typo in some reference! That's pretty weak. Why would demons rely on some ancient mumbo jumbo?"

"It's not that simple. I mean take in account Sam is smart, the son of a soldier, born at the right time, trained. If Lucy told the truth, they think you boys were descended of some archangel line, not that the records on that are solid. According to most legends the demons fail time after time to take control, but they keep trying. Makes sense to get a powerful weapon on your side."

"You're not buying all that crap?"

"Maybe... maybe not. But, in order to get hell on earth, they need these guardians to open those doors. Sam wasn't raised with isolation. Old yellow eyes thought he could turn Sam easily, but he didn't count on you messin' around with his plans. "

"Poor sick puppy- a dead sick puppy!" Dean said remembering the yellow eyed demon's demise.

"Well, no matter if the story is true, a load of crap, or demonic wishful thinking, they have Sam on their side. "

The oldest Winchester got to his feet and started for the front door. As he opened it, he heard a quiet voice from behind him.

'What, no good-bye hug?' Bobby said with a smile planted on his face. "Where do you think you are goin'?"

Dean brushed the question off and continued. "After Sam."

"You're going after him?"

"I have to"

Bobby frowned a little. 'Look, if it was anyone else, I wouldn't give a shit about your stupid plans! It's just that I'm your friend."

"Sam's my brother!"

"I know, but friends care for each other, too"

Bobby's words seemed to stir something in Dean, who whipped around to face his friend again. They stood silently, both gathering their thoughts, assembling a string of coherent words to say.

"I'm going to find my brother." He said matter of factly.

"It's no longer Sam!"

"I have to try or Sam could be gone forever. I can't let him do this for me. He can't sacrifice himself. It's too much."

"Well duh. We're going after him, but you need to get your head straight. We go into the demon camp and they'll attack. Do we really stand much of a chance against hundreds of demons? Huh? No we don't! We'll be slaughter."

He muttered profanity as this continued, leaning against the door, tapping his fingers impatiently. "Well. Whether you like it or not, I'm going. This is my problem. And I'll fix it, even if I have to kill them all to get to Sam. And not even you can stop me."

"Never planned on it." Bobby smiled. "Now you sound like yourself and the hunter I know. Too bad you didn't get that in your own skull a million times ago. I think I can trust you're back to you old self- God help us. I had to be sure. But, I think we'll have better odds if we get him one on one and leave the demonic nation alone. The question is can you face him? Can you kill the shell if your brother is gone?"


	12. Wish You Were Here

**Three weeks later…..**

The wind whipped odd swirls and ripples against stark naked branches of the white birches. The cluster of limbs clattered as if they fought one another, oddly and eerily, but the noise did little to disturb or quell the thoughts rolling and slamming about in Dean's head. Thundering, great ominous rumbles reached out across the sky, clawing closer and closer.

"Sure as hell picked a good night for this." Bobby muttered.

"You know me... I'm only happy when it rains. Can't have anything easy."

"Then I say you sure as damned excelled in that. " Bobby nudged Dean's arm overly playful. As his hand retreated, he was sure he felt the first drizzle of rain, but it might be a droplet of sweat from his brow.

The early dawn sky clotted red and gray as the sun still hung low, half under the horizon and still attempting to struggle into the morning. Dean knew it was only a threat of rain, passing above them to downpour somewhere else. Too many damn nights and damn days under damn rain clouds gave him a sixth sense about storms. He'd seen more than his fair share. Still, the gloom above made his stomach churn as he was possessed with dread of facing his little brother. That was a storm he would love to avoid.

Bobby had been right, he wasn't at all ready, but that wasn't about to stop him. If he waited for his courage to glue to him, he would never have fought any battle. Instinctively, his hand clutched the colt in the waist band of his blue jeans. He strangled the hilt, knuckles white and wrist trembling. The calm that he so carefully exuded on the long tracking process was momentarily lost, letting his breathing and adrenaline slowly build. Finally, he let go of his grip and pushed tighter against the bark of a massive tree, keeping his cover until the precise second of battle.

"Hey, Bobby," he whispered.

"Yeah?"

"I need you do somethin' for me….if I don't make it, take care of Sam."

"I don't intend on letting you die."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

"This is my fight. Dad knew it. Knew that I would have to face Sam. I understand that all now. He trained me harder than he did Sam, drilled me… made me the better shot. It wasn't for nothing. He must have figured out what the demon did early on."

"John wouldn't…"

"He would and did. Guess he always hoped he would never see that day. I'm kinda glad he won't see it. It's killing me already."

"You think I am going to let you do this alone."

"No. I don't think you'll let me…" He smiled in a way that said thank you and I'm sorry at once.

"Nah, what would I do without you knuckleheads around. Life would get boring."

"Yeah… but still…" With that Dean drew back a punch, nailing Bobby with the hardest blow Dean could afford. His reflexes caught his friend, keeping Bobby from falling, gently lowering him. "I can't let you die for us. No one else I care about is going to die because of me."

Then he heard a sound, carnal and vicious. As far as he knew, no animal could make such a sound.

"You can stop hiding! I've been waiting for you… looking for you."

The tone of the voice shivered up Dean's spine, banging anguish in his ears. "Sam!" Dean spouted as he wondered how close his little brother was and when the army would arrive.

"It's time for you to stop haunting me…hounding my dreams….I don't need an army." He said reading Dean's thoughts. "I will face you alone." A few stray bangs fell into his face, which he pushed back nervously. He quickly berated himself for the reaction to a mere human. He was unbeatable- a step away from being a god. The idea that a hunter would cause such a response was utterly ridiculous.

When Dean shifted from his cover, his little brother stood motionless, waiting for Dean to approach. But beyond that, what he saw made him gasp. A pair of silver eyes caught his without a speckle of kindness, but there was a sparkle of delight inside of them. Seeing those eyes, Dean believed that last part of Sam was shattered beyond repair. "I'm here like I always wanted to be. Always thought we go down in a fight, but not against each other."

"You chose to interfere with what I want." Sam watched the figure step out of the shadows, hands at his sides, face dead as darkness.

"Hmmm… there was a time you wanted me to…. You relied on me so much, it was almost a burden. But then you had to grow up. Sammy…It's me." With the last bit of willpower he possessed, he stepped forward, intent on one thing only. "You have to fight this and for once I can't protect you."

"Protection? Then why did you bring a weapon!"

"Cause you don't want to be this… Sam would sooner die."

"Don't act like you know what I want."As the hunter walked slowly towards Sam, a howling sound erupted from him. "I have no time for your games." He could not grasp the audacity the hunter had to have to walk into possible death, to gamble loosing it all. It seemed selfish. "Being a hero is a dead art… as dead as you are about to be.

"I do know….always did…" Acting on pure instinct, he pulled the colt from its resting spot, aimed squarely at Sam. Dean questioned his sanity for being here at all. Yet, it didn't matter. Sam had to be saved. "I don't want to hurt you. I never did. From the time you were born, I did my best to take care of you. I know I failed you, disappointed you time and time again." His gun at the ready, he shouted whatever came to mind. He even said a prayer aloud to just to get a reaction.

An unholy shriek spilled out, leaving Dean wordless. "Those things are pointless… prayers and charms! And I thought you were at least going to be a fun fight."

"Don't make me kill you." Dean didn't want to shoot Sam ever. They were still brothers, even if all the remained was a shell of his little brother. If one small cell of Sam remained in this world, he could still hope his baby brother could be saved and redeemed.

Sam flinched. "LIES!!" Dean wasn't sure why, but the forest behind him lit ablaze. "Bobby..." he muttered, turning and running back to ensure his friend was safe. Before he made two steps back, the dark fumes above started to take shape and materialize before him. A black spider web of tendrils followed and spread like a deadly, instantaneous disease. Everywhere it touched turned to ash, ravaging all life out of existence.

"You try to fill my head with thoughts of family and connection! I am not easily fooled by the likes of you!"

"What are you doing! BOBBY'S OUT THERE!"

"Don't try to trick me. I could read his mind if there was someone out there. More lies!"

"But you care about Bobby… just like you care about me. I know you do, Sammy!"

Without warning, the dark clouds and smoke twisted into a sinewy shadow complete with muscular appendages made up of smoke. The smell of acrid fumes, the kind of smell that could haunted your nightmares, flew down Dean's throat, choking the life from him. Like the musk of death, the air was too thick to breathe. "Ssss...aaaaammmmy…" His body felt heavy as he desperately tried to aim the colt. Four long slashes ripped across Dean's cheek, immediately dripping blood down his chin and neck. He jerked back, nearly dropping the gun, but he held on and raised it to re-aim.

The crushing weight of manifestation inside of him stole his breath away. It pushed his larynx harder until Dean felt himself fading. The colt fell from his hands.

Then, just for Sam's enjoyment, he allowed his it to release Dean enough for his captive to take a deep saving breath, just before it plunged the mouth full of smoke again.

With a great effort, Dean turned his head just enough to see Sam, to take one last look in hopes some part sparked back to life, that some part of the Sam he loved remained. But Sam's eyes were gone… The soft, pained eyes that were the same as his father's- able to crush you and praise you without a single word. Sometimes he thought that was the only thing that connected those two. That and the thought they would always be there. Everything was gone now. At this moment, Sam eyes were just as frozen and dead as his father.

Searing pain flooded Dean again. His survival instinct kicked in and he let out a cracked yell before everything swam. The manifestation closed tightly inside his throat, and Dean managed a loud shout before it cut off his air. He could do nothing to fight it as Sam seemed to mock him time and again. It loosened its grip just for Sam to hear more screams. Yet even that wasn't enough punishment and amusement.

Four more deep gashes opened across his chest, slicing through the fabric like melted butter. Dean shrieked at the unholy scorching inside his him, blinding pain streaking across his wounds. Right now Sam seemed content to play a sick game of seeing how much oxygen he could deprive Dean of without knocking him out. Dean's went hoarse as he yelled again, while his body fell ablaze with blistering fire. As the pain mounted, tears ran from his clenched eyes. "Saa….sss…aaaa….mmmmmy….You're my bro…."

"Don't call me that!" he screamed. The name reached some small corner inside of Sam, triggering an end to Sam's smoke creature.

Dean fell hard. He recovered quickly, shaking wildly as he got to his knees to steady himself. "Sam! Fight this!" He stood, rushing forward a few steps to find the colt.

"Sam is gone!"The thing that had taken over taunted, retrieving the colt with only his mind. The move seemed to break more focus when the fires Sam had created quelled and extinguished.

Dean snarled in frustration. This was not the same brother that he once knew. This was a puppet being played by evil, but there was something wrong. He knew it and was going to take the biggest gamble and bluff of his life. "Then come and get me!" That did it. Now Dean knew for certain and it pained him all the more. This was why he had to face Sam. If it meant his death, he would dig until Sam came back. His brother was in there somewhere. "I've got nothing left to lose! You took him away from me, and I've got nothing left. Then go ahead…kill me…. if you can do it… can you?" This was the only shot. Dean decided that if they were to survive this, he would have to let go of everything.

"You underestimate my power!"

"No, you're my brother. I know how strong you are!" Looking at him was almost more than Dean could bear. He knew this would end horribly, but still he had to do what his father had always asked of him: Save Sam or kill him. He wasn't prepared to hurt his little brother. For all the things he had to offer the only one that came to mind was to sacrifice himself. Only that could prove the truth. That didn't make it any easier in the least.

"This is the end for you."

"Won't be the first time." Dean smarted and then grew softer. "But, maybe you'll be the last- the one to finish me. Aren't you tired Sam? Tired of everyone deciding things for us? ... Dad... the demon… Lilith… Don't you want to live life on your own terms? So you just go ahead…Kill me. That's what you want… what hell wants. End all the ties you have to humanity. End this cause I'm so tired of it all. Tired of looking at you and wondering if I'm strong enough to save you… Cause I'm not. Never was. And I don't know what to do, Sammy."

"SILENCE!"

"I came here to get my family back even if you kill me….I won't leave without my brother." The hope that he could reach some part of his brother through love and friendship made him step closer.

Sam raised the colt, squaring his aim on the unprotected Dean. "Do you want to die so badly?"

"No…" His voice cracked. "I want things to be right…right for one damn second." A tear streamed down his face. "I want Mom to be alive! Dad to work at his damn garage and struggle to get us things. I want trips to the ball park…. Washing the damn car…. Teaching you how to swim…..I want you to have a wife…kids…a home. I want you to bail me out of jail for starting a bar fight…. I want…"

"STOP! Don't come closer."

"I just want something safe... normal…but we didn't get that did we." His target smirked. "So you go ahead and make demands, and I'll ignore them. What's the point! You're just delaying what you are more than capable of doing."

"Are you afraid?" Sam ran his eye along the sight. The world beyond the barrel was shaking. His hand was shaking.

"Not anymore. Losing you was the worst thing I could imagine. Twice now…I failed you." Sam's eyes continued to glare and Dean's hopes of seeing any part of the man he knew in them were fading away. If there was no chance to say it later, he didn't want it to end this way. "I love you Sam and that's all I got. That's it. Our lives suck and are so screwed up, but you always knew I loved you."

His shaking hands leveled near the smirking voice. "You lie!"

"Then why did you take my car, my jacket… my necklace! Cause it's so damn fashionable? Hmpphhn… Look inside.. you're the liar here. For all the demons took, they couldn't make you break all the ties… Come on…."

"You really want to die."

"Then shoot."

"Shut up."

"Just shoot! If you can kill me, go ahead." The words felt like sharp knives jammed into his heart. "You were my brother and I loved you." Dean closed his eyes. "I failed you."

"STOP SAM!" Bobby screamed, running towards Dean. He appeared immediately out of the tree line, hell bent on stopping Sam.

Attention snapped to another level, sending Sam arm to arch away, finding a new target. He took aim squarely on Bobby. Without any thought whatsoever, he raised the gun to rest at the older man's heart and pulled the trigger. A loud boom rang through the air and suddenly everything seemed to grow very still.


	13. Deal Breaker

With the shot still ringing in his ears, Dean leaped forward as if he could stop Sam from sending out death. It was already too late. The barrel cracked forward a bullet, sending twisted metal hurdling into the open space.

In one single instant, the bullet tore towards Bobby, who drove his body downward, scrambling for the ground. Even with his hunter reflexes, he had no time to think about his actions, letting instinct only drive him. The projectile spiraled quicker than any man could move, whizzing through flesh and bone. The projectile ripped inside his shoulder and bored all the way through to his shoulder blade, missing the intended target of his heart, he let out a beastly anguished noise.

While Bobby tried hard to keep the bullet from killing him, Dean sprinted forward, reaching out to make a play for the colt. Bobby raised his shotgun, aiming, only to see Dean standing in front of Sam when another loud crack broke the silence. With the best fatherly voice he could muster, he screamed for Dean to stop, seeing the gun flash again before the words could fully form.

Sam didn't hear the bang or Dean's grunt for the triumphant devilish roar of glee of his own voice. However, the small piece of metal never made it further than a few feet.

Dean stared for a few minute and then looked blankly shocked. Instantly, in too short a time, Dean was almost in Sam's arms, jerking back violently. He stood unmoving except for a hand, clutching at the bullet wound, trying to stem the flow of blood. His side ached, and when he wiped, his fingers came away smudged with grime and blood. A mysterious change came over him as very line of his body altered as though he were shrunken and immensely young. Falling back away from Sam, he groaned loudly.

"NO!! He heard from somewhere else. "You Stupid... stupid... loving kid… Dammit." Bobby yelled, scrambling on his knees towards Dean, scooping up the man in one arm. "Dean?" he said, ignoring the fog in his head from his own wound. His hand came up to Dean's face, holding it gently in his palm. Bobby's shoulder bleed badly, but he ignored any concern for himself. "It's okay," he smiled and tried to apply pressure with one functioning arm to the two gaping holes in Dean's body.

All of the sudden, Sam's consciousness was bombarded with this incredible feeling. As if a mule struck him violently in his stomach, he shuddered. He was on his knees in an instant, gasping out. For some reason, his entire body shuddered when his spine lengthens and painfully stretches. At first it looks like he is undergoing some strange metamorphosis to become something vile and even worse than before.

Bobby couldn't watch what was happening to Sam and didn't even want to question why. Enough death and pain had already come from this day. All he could hope for was a quick end, realizing this battle was so lopsided. It was like pitting a hummingbird against a typhoon.

"Sam…get him… bring him back…. Have too…" Dean whispered, his voice shaking a little.

"He's safe...You did it...he's going to be okay... I need you to hang on now..." Bobby lied, not even taking notice of what was happening to Sam. "Dean…" he whispered. He stroked Dean's hair and rocked him back gently, "It's okay," he soothed. He averted Dean's view of the oddly, hypnotic shakes that had overtaken Sam.

Suddenly, Sam screamed, falling to the ground in spasms. Pained moans came from his lips and he turned away. "Dean!" Something deeper took over him, rocking the demonic means inside of him. The deadly powers inside of him that had devoured his humanity twisted and turned terror in Sam's mind. He thrashed back and forth for a moment, gasping in disjointed grunts. Finally, a blood curdling roar screeched out of Sam, sending the young man to roll about on the ground, reaching for Dean.

"GET BACK!" Bobby demanded.

"DEAN!!"

"Sam!" Dean cried in reaction to his brother's scream. Pushing feebly to move in his friend's arm, he had no strength to move. "SAM!" he yelled.

"Hush up now... You're going to be okay." He let his hand travel, inspecting the gaping hole in Dean. Bobby's hands gently probed the wound, but even his moderate touch caused great pain. The bullet appeared to have entered near the ribcage and exited through the middle of the back.

"God... that hurts!" He gurgled. The sunlight hit Dean's features, making his face seem even paler.

When a strange wind whipped through, Bobby paused for a moment, enjoying the silence and catching his breath. He glanced up, noticing that Sam was going stir demon crazy. At that moment, Bobby decided. If Sam had to be killed, it would be by his hand. He would make it quick and clean.

Suddenly, Sam seized. The next scream ripped through the silence. An arm thrusted outward, muscles writhing under his skin. His body moved in ways that nothing human ever could. His body reeling as his eyes transfixed on the blood spilling out of Dean. Sam's arm outstretched, his fingers flying open and splayed, energy pouring from him. Odd metallic veins, electric and hot, formed along his skin like a labyrinth of webbing over his aching flesh. His body rejected the evil inside him, breaking away. The light show around Sam died out and he stopped moving. A gasp caught in his throat, which he forced back down, swallowing thickly. His body remained unmarred by the energy that just painted over him. The signs of the demonic blood in him, fighting the rover him. He didn't wait for Bobby to okay him or believe his humanity had returned.

"GET BACK YOU DEMONIC BASTARD!" The elder hunter screamed, glaring and ready to pull his weapon.

"Bobby? I… I killed…oh my GOD… no… no… it wasn't supposed to…WHAT HAVE I DONE!" And then Sam was moving, almost dumbstruck with grief, reaching out for something far more important. Glaring at his brother lying on the ground, severely wounded, he walked like a mindless zombie to Dean's form. "Please don't die…" Warm tears of sheer terror leaked onto Dean's shoulder, Sam breathing heavily beside him.

"SAM! Save SAM!" Dean demanded.

"I'm here...hold on... don't you dare do this!"

"Cold...hurts, can't…can't….." a voice trailed off into another agonized moan, rolling his eyes.

"Stay awake now!" Bobby demanded, while he glared at Sam. His hand flexed ready to get a weapon if necessary. "And you better prove your Sam right now or you'll have a few holes in you."

"I… I… damn it….. no…" Wet eyes shot up, expressing a lack of how to answer Bobby's ultimatum "Bobby… I'm really here…… why did you let him… why!' Sam crashed to his knees next to Dean, pulling at his brother's arm. There was no one that would stop him now. It was then Bobby noticed the hazel softness staring at him with guilt and remorse so thick. Sam pulled Dean closer as Bobby made no move to protest.

"You're okay… you're…safe...back..." Dean started. His mother always told Dean that he must have been born without patience. All his life, he had always been looking forward to some moment: his first bike, his driver's license, the outcome of a hunt, the end of the date. His imagination could fathom out exactly what he wanted to happen without a thought to the here and now. However, he had the ability to improve and fly by the seat of his pant like no one else. Which led him to something Pastor Jim always told him, Dean Winchester you are a walking contradiction. But, what can you do when you have to be strong when you really feel like all you want to was break down. This wasn't what he saw happening in his mind. No one could have predicted what Sam had offered up to save Dean's soul. No one could have predicted it would take Dean dying to get him back once again. The world was full of twisted irony, but still it was worth the price to stare up into Sam's eyes and not the demonic ones.

Blood soaked him, while Dean stared at Sam with an intensity that cannot be described. Sobbing, he took Dean from Bobby and cradled him inside his arms, feeling the blood ebb away. "Stay here…. Don't go." No matter how many times Sam begged, Dean didn't rally. He felt like he was losing with each shiver of Dean's body.

"I'm not afraid…"

"I did this for you." He said quietly to Dean. The pain must have been beyond terrible, but Dean kept staring with pained eyes. There was fear there regret, but mostly love. "Don't die!"

"I'm not afraid…"

"This was to protect you… I DID THIS FOR YOU! Why couldn't you just live a happy life?"

"Wasn't life without you…

"It was wrong and stupid." Bobby offered, but there would be time to lecture Sam later. More immediate concerns needed attention. "Alright… we got to stop this bleeding. I need your help."

"You're hurt too." Sam suddenly remembered he had shot Dean and Bobby- his family- his own blood.

"I know, but he's worse…. I've had bigger bug bites. I need you to put pressure on the entrance and exit. Get it together. You can guilt about this later!" Feeling desperate, he spoke louder.

"It hurts!"

"You're not going to die. You still have a chance." Bobby's good arm cracked open his shotgun, grabbing out a shell. "Press really hard on those bleeders."

"ARGGGH"

"Did that hurt?"

"No shur, Shitlock."

"Good... means you're still kickin'...and whinin'...You gotta stay awake, okay? You done a pretty good job so far, can't be too hard, right?" Bobby located shotgun shell

Dean managed to cock an eyebrow, and even gave a weak grin. "That...that's what you...think."

"Doesn't seem that hard to me."

"Bite me."

"You can't leave us." Sam said emotionally charged, but one look at Bobby settled his feelings for the moment. He had to keep Dean talking, press buttons if he had too. Attempting to keep Dean occupied and conscious, he tried desperately to sound hopeful. ""Your name isn't Kenny is it?"

"Bastard... Funny…. Very funny….uhhhh……"

"It's okay now. We're going to make it out together." Bobby said, scrapping away the top of the shell case.

"Sounds like something Dad would say. He was a sucky liar too." Dean managed to moan out.

"Not quite."

"Easy tiger," Sam said, just like would have John.

"Dude… that…ugggggarrrrh…..doesn't sound right coming from you…"

"How about hold the hell on cause you need to kick Sam's ass for this."

"ARHRHHHHHGGGG!"

"We gotcha, it's okay... it's gonna be okay..." he hated the feeling of impotence, especially when he felt Dean trembling so violently against him.

"I can't… too cold….tired..." The words stuttered. He couldn't see anything but a blur, not even the hand reaching out to him. Everything was so dark.

"We're giving you our best material here to cheer ya up. You could at least cooperate." Bobby had a shotgun shell in his hand, hollowing it out for the gunpowder. "He's lost a lot of blood and still losing it."

"He needs help fast! Hurry up. I think he's getting worse."

"He's too weak to move, so we need to cauterize that now." Bobby switched to professional hunter mode, hiding his worry behind action. "Keep him talkin''!"

"You can't die on me. This was all for you… for once."

"Don't get a choice…You…. You…" Steadily, the blood loss proliferated from his body. Dean wrestled to keep conscious. His eyes rolled up, and stared blearily into Sam's face. If he blacked out then he was gone. He'd bleed to death and would finally be the end of him, no more bringing him back.

His breaths were trivial, his heart beat pulsated erratically, and his mind grew watery with perception becoming harder to hold on to. When he thought, he could just drift to sleep, Bobby's thumb jammed inside the wound, stuffing the gunpowder inside the opening.

"Okay, put pressure back on there for a moment."

"Aaahhhhhfhhhhh!" Crying out from the intense pain, Dean could feel Sam's hand pressing in his wound. Agony replaced any strength he had like a jolt to his entire system. As more pressure clamped down, he shot forward. A final spasm of pain banged around like it was searching for a piece of him that hadn't felt enough hurt yet. It finally settled in his head making him see spots. For a moment, everything was black.

Then, he looked up toward his beloved brother and friend, focusing. With one glance, he would have thought they needed immediate medical attention too. Their cheeks were sunken in and their dull, distant eyes didn't have their usual fire in them. "Sam…" Dean blinked and shuddered, and Sam cursed himself. He stuttered more, an increasingly bad sign. "Live for me…"

"Never. You're not going... YOU HEAR ME!"

Dean's head flopped around on the too loose neck. "Promise….please…."

"Shut that up! You're tougher than a one eared alley cat." Bobby turned his attention to Dean's expression. He was pale and his eyes were drooping again. "Stay with us!"


	14. Depends

**Hours later….**

Even though the window beside him was wide open, he didn't want to look at the outside world. He didn't deserve such beauty after all the pain he caused- after all the carnage- the blood- the destruction. He closed his eyes so tightly that spots appeared, but even that reminded him of shame and the time Dean taught him how to compass himself with the stars.

In the strangest twists of irony, Sam had fulfilled the contracts of his deal. No demon hands could harm his brother and once again in Dean's self-sacrificing way, he had made everything alright. That's what Dean did after all; He made everything okay. Yet, that resolution had to come at a price, usually a price of pain. Sam's demonic hands were the instrument of that pain. He thought he had worded his deal so cleverly, insuring that nothing could ever touch his brother, but he didn't count on that evil being him.

He curled into a corner of the couch, trying to burrow into the seat and bury his head into his face in his knees. He didn't even realize he let out a few tears, not that they really stopped since he tainted his hands with his brother's blood. His entire body tingled to numb, except his brain, which was so aware of his past actions.

"You're going to guilt yourself to being sick." Bobby said as he handed Sam a cup of coffee,

Sam stared at an arm hung expertly in a homemade sling. "I can't help it. What I've done is unfor…"

"Nothing is unforgiveable, especially in your brother's eyes and mine. I'm hitting the sack. You should do the same. Or eat somethin'. You can't dwell on the what ifs now."

"Bobby?"

"Yeah, kid."

"If I ever get there… again…. And I…"

"You won't…"

"If I do…"

"Guess I'll have to get your ass back. Seems a pity to stop the trend now, doesn't it. Now, stop pouting 'round and rest up. Dean'd skin ya if he saw that."

"Yeah… he's like that." His thoughts had disturbed any notion of real sleep, thinking of the monster he had become and what it took to bring him back. Never again would he make such a bargain. Never again would anyone pay a price to save him. No more pain and no more death, he vowed.

"Night son." With that the Winchester's life-long friend left Sam to his own devises and thoughts. Somehow, knowing Bobby was there brought a great comfort.

"Night." Sam flopped back on the couch, his long legs jutting over the too short surface. Even in the cramped space, his body ached for the comfort of sleep. Just when he thought his mind could not be quieted, the melodious tones of crickets lulled Sam into some sense of numbness. Finally, after the longest time, he drifted to a dreamless world.

A desperate moan interrupted the tranquil moment as a strangled groan echoed across the room. Sam's eyes popped open and his body was in motion before sleep had finished retreating. His piercing eyes narrowed as he heard it again and this time it sounded like the whimper of a young child. He bolted from the couch, his heart pounding panic throughout his body all the way to the cot on the other side of the room.

Dean lay upon the mattress, looking up at the ceiling, trying to get up. The sight should have been relieving, but it made Sam's stomach churn. This was his fault- another instant of not being in control. That's when he noticed the red stain over the neatly wrapped bandage.

"Dean?" Sam approached the bed carefully, methodically watching Dean's reactions. "You're bleeding again! What happened!?" Regret and anger painted his eyes.

"Had a dream and moved too much. A little sore," Dean admitted, but shook his head. He couldn't stop the soft hiss that escaped his lips when he tried to readjust his body. "Are you going to let me sit here and bleed to death—or are you actually going to help me?"

"Don't you dare say that!" Sam spoke harshly. "You shouldn't be up at all. You were shot." He scooted on the metal bar at the mattress edge.

"Yeah, I know. You shot me." It was strange how unusually calm Dean was in this situation. There was no fear, no tears, nothing to show how horrid he felt. "It's not as bad as it looks."

"This is serious." Sam's heart was beating so quickly, pounding in his ears as if trying to escape. It only stopped when heard a snicker from the man next to him. The calmness before was enough to freak Sam out, but the humor was overkill.

"Why are you laughing? This isn't funny."

"Nothing… just… dude, go to bed."

"You're bleeding again."

"I just moved in my sleep and pulled it!" He said a little bit exaggeratedly "Thought I would get a bandage. . I can do this myself. "

"DO THIS MYSELF!"

"Glad you agree."

"Don't… just…" Sam took in a stressful breath and tried to exude calmness. "Just don't twist my words right now… please… I…"

"I'm okay…. It' okay…hear me."

"It's not!"

"It will be."

"Watching you bleed was… it……"

"Don't do this to yourself. We both…we both messed up a lot in the past." Dean leaned up even further, grimacing as the pain intensified in his side.

"I was….I thought you were going to die…that I killed you…."

"But, you didn't. It saved you. Don't you understand by now… Sam….I….I would give my life to save you any day."

"I wanted to do this for you… for once….. save my big brother. I couldn't let you go to hell.

"Well… it was hell without ya… you didn't do me any favors."

"I don't think I am strong enough to do this without you. They knew I would become a monster."

"But you came back."

"Only because of some loophole… Lilith promised you wouldn't…"

"Hey... hey… stop… It's my job to guilt you- I also get the perks of doing swirlies, uncles, atomic wedgies, melvins, Indian burns, and noogies….And that whole warm water on your hand when you sleep- That was so me! You need to read your job description."

"That's not funny. I really…. I just need my brother."

"That's right." A second voice chirped. "And we need you too." Bobby crossed over to the duo.

"See even Bobby agrees with me." Dean smarted and then groaned when a pain shot up his side.

"And you… you….boy if you scare me like that again. I swear…" His words were stern, but his tone was full of worry. "I swear I'll kick your ass six ways from Sunday."

"Yeah, yeah…heard things like that before."

Afraid that Dean would burst his stitches even more, Bobby took matters into his own hands. "Dean Harley Winchester, just what the hell do you think you're doing moving around? Lay back down or do I have to tie you down!?"

"Stop worrying, I'll be fine. Am I the only one calm here?" Dean smiled, looking up at Sam, who could hardly share the smile, simply prompting Dean to lay back down. Dean's mouth may have been covering, lying that everything was okay, but his body was more than willing to listen. All of his muscles ached for rest.

"Don't fight us here." Bobby demanded, grabbing the first aid supplies.

"Have either of you slept?" Dean settled back on the cot, one hand covering the hole in his ribcage.

"No, but we would if your keister would listen and keep from bleeding everywhere." Bobby chimed in, moving Dean's hand away to get a look. "Guess I'll have to redo that dressing."

"What are you waiting on? Christmas? Can we get this over with?"

"Cranky."

"And who is taking care of you?" Dean asked knowingly, inspecting the two men before him.

"We're taking care of each other." Sam offered. "Don't argue." His brows furrowed, strong as ever.

"Let me take a look at that banged of yours" Bobby muttered something else quietly as his hand gripped the bed post to sit on the floor.

"I'm fine." Dean insisted, setting back into the mattress and involuntarily wincing as the Bobby's hand connected with his wound. He contemplated ordering Sam to go to sleep but didn't bother; his own energy was almost entirely drained. If he was a car, the phrase would have been running on fumes.

When Dean hissed again, Sam peeked at the used bandage and grimaced. "You okay?"

"Peachy." His side burned and a whimper slipped past his lips. "That hurt."

"You just pulled your stitches, big baby," Bobby muttered. He took a look around inside the wound, re-stitched it, and placed a new bandage over the hole. "You were lucky this time." He said when he was done. "The bullet never reached any nerves or the bone"

"Still hurts like hell." His head was screaming worse by the moment and he was sure it wouldn't be long until his skull exploded. His body felt heavy and leaden.

Sam was busy opening a pill bottle, dumping at least four in his hand. Obviously, he wasn't going to let Dean protest about taking them or even offer an opinion about them. And whether he admitted it or not, Dean really needed to quell some of the pain. So, he obediently tossed the pills to the back of his throat and winced as he swallowed the foul tasting caplets sans water.

"I'll get you a drink."

"Don't need water… sshhshshuhsss…think I need about ten more of those."

"Does this bother you?" Sam finally asked softly, his mind elsewhere other than first aid. His eyes focused on the cuts on Dean's face and chest.

"Getting the crap kicked out of me?" Dean asked in confusion. "Well, yeah, I mean, I don't enjoy it or anything and looking like I shaved with a machete is not a look I particularly go for."

"No, I mean…" Turning back to the first aid kit, Sam's hands rummage aimlessly through the pills, ointments, and bandages, his eyes seemingly fixated on the task at hand. "Me hurting you……I mean some asshole with my face cut you… shot you." Having said more than he meant to, Sam narrowed his focus on a pill bottle, rolling it back and forth between his hands.

"He wasn't you," Dean offered simply.

"It was and I've shot you twice now."

"The first time wasn't your fault- that was Meg. And this time wasn't either. It wasn't you,"

"Doesn't matter.' He thought bitterly. 'I did it. I DID IT.'

"Sam, stop it… Bobby demands."

"Yeah! Stop it." Dean mimicked.

"What do you expect? I thought you died."

"You saved countless lives just by killin' Lilith and Meg. All in all you killed lots of demons... seems like it's worth a hole in my ribs…a freakin' painful hole... but I say our score racked up on this one. I'm alive and I'm not going anywhere," Dean said softly.

"I know," Sam whispered, feeling a tear slide down his cheek and onto Dean's t-shirt. "I just had no idea how I was going to live when I thought you were dead. All those years without you in them…. The thought… and I couldn't breathe."

Dean heard the pitch change of Sam remembering earth-shattering grief. "Well, I'm here and I'm staying here."

"Did you boys take Midol? Do you think we can skip the lifetime movie on this?"

"Yeah… how about... it's down to you, Bobby, and me, you freaks!" He was back to his jovial self or at least pretending for Sam's sake.

In a way, Sam and Bobby were comfortable with this side of Dean, finding it hard to keep frowns plastered to their faces. "Just when I thought he was going to be serious."

"Can't teach an old Dean new tricks."

"Depends who you ask, the showgirl in Vegas… tch… she was...whew." Dean yawned, his eyes already slipping close as the exhaustion of his injury and medication pounded into him

"Okay, he's delusional." Bobby smarted off as he got up, Sam helping him balance until he was full on his feet.

"Nothing new there."

The blonde haired man slowly let his tired body relax, throwing an arm over his eyes and tried to ride out the wave of nausea. He closed his eyes, utterly spent. "You guys suck!"

"Just yell if you need anything before you damage yourself again." Bobby demanded.

"We'll take care of anything you need." Sam added.

"Same here," Dean offered. "I will always take care of my little brother…well… except if you need Depends! Then you are so on your own!"

"Go to sleep." Sam rolled his eyes amazed at how hard Dean could fight something he so desperately needed. He'd probably sleep all day tomorrow, if not a week.

"He's hopeless."

"Wouldn't have it any other way." Sam smiled as his friend.

Muttering under his breath, Dean made some smartass comment, but exhaustion stole anything that resembled a sentence, making the noise come out like an amused groan. The room was silent for a few seconds, and then something cold and damp was placed across his forehead. A cool sensation spread over the face and his breathing relax. He took several deep breaths as he sighed in appreciation. He was too bone-weary to do anything more, letting himself go to dreamland.

Sam snorted softly, thankful that Dean was well on his way to resting "Goodnight, Dean."

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**-THE END-**

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**Author's note: Is it wrong that I had 10 ideas on how to break Dean's deal? Hope you liked the two I managed to get out of my random head. And if you read any of my crackfic stuff you know how random I am. Catch you all on the next one. Thanks for reading. For that I think you deserve a Winchester group hug.**

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